A Powerful Little Love
by smac92
Summary: Amorette du Guillory could be a dangerous but neccessary ally to many. Crossing Paths with Athos after many years, she must decide where her loyalites really do lie. Will she succumb to the Courtly secrets and games in a quest for power like her sister once did; or will she stay true to the powerful little love that still resides in a corner of her heart?
1. Chapter 1

_**I only own Amorette.**_

She laughed as she reached the doorway, chasing the little girl out into the gardens. The smell of fresh lavender wafted her way as she meandered through the wet sheets that were hanging to dry. Batting the last sheet away she followed little Pauline who was now skirting round the garden towards the front of the house, giggling as she went. _A happy day_ mused Amorette as she caught sight of Pauline. The child tried to scamper away upon hearing Amorette's approach but a cacophony of chuckles filled the glade at the front of the house when Amorette lifted Pauline into her arms, dancing to the tune in her head as she began to sing…

" _Lavender's green, dilly, dilly, Lavender's blue._

 _If you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you._

 _Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, and the lambs play._

 _We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm's way._

 _I love to dance, dilly, dilly, I love to sing._

 _When I am queen, dilly, dilly, you'll be my king._

 _Who told me so, dilly, dilly, who told me so?_

 _I told myself, dilly, dilly, I told me so…"_

Amorette had given no thought to the quality of her singing as she had sung in English and the little child in her arms knew it not, and Elise the maid had heard it too many times to care. There was no one else around to have taken notice of it. No thought had been given to her clothing either. She wore a simple ivory garden dress, and her mousey brown hair was gathered in a simple plat at the nape of her neck. She hadn't even thought to put on shoes and felt no regret as the cool grass was a fresh cushion to her feet. She let Pauline slide to the ground and as she leaned down the bottom of her corset pinched the top of her thighs. She paid it no heed though, and brushed some of the dirt from the child's face.

It was Elise who made Amorette aware of the riders. She came running from the house, skirts flying and decorum left behind. "Madame! Amorette! Amorette! Riders!" Later on, Amorette would laugh at Elise's momentary slip. Her companion was all formality and etiquette and the use of her Christian name was very rare indeed. She knew that the moment had called for it though. Unexpected visitors were extremely rare in her secluded little world just outside Provins. Amorette had spun around where she stood to observe that four riders had just turned the bend in the road and were cantering towards them. Amorette knew that there were several sets of pistols buried somewhere within the house but she had not one about her person in that moment. She did not even have a knife or weapon of any kind should she need it. She thrust Pauline behind her into Elise's arms and brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the sunlight and it was then that she realised weapons were not likely to be needed. The riders were musketeers. Blue cloaks flowing behind them and hats pulled over their eyes, it wasn't until they were passing the gate that Amorette saw him.

All sound escaped Amorette in that moment. The sound of the horses, the whimpers of Pauline and Elise's calls for her to move back were lost to her. All that she was aware of was the pounding of her heart. Amorette felt her ears begin to burn as all the blood rushed to her face. A cloud of dust encased her as four horses skidded to a halt. Despite the tired, frustrated scowl and streaks of dirt that made him almost unrecognisable as the man she once knew; Amorette had to concede that Athos always did look remarkably well astride a horse.

A whispered snarl was what brought her out of her reverie. "Athos she better not be who I think she is!" Amorette would have thought the man Spanish by his looks if he had not spoken fluent French. Thinking she hadn't heard him, he doffed his hat and nodded a greeting to her, a gentle smile gracing his face. He looked as if he were about to speak again, but Athos got there first. Without a doff of his hat or nod, or greeting of any kind; his deep voice addressed her gruffly and without pretence. "We have been on the road three days and nights. We would be grateful for food and shelter for an evening. Porthos here is injured," he jerked his head in the direction of the largest of the four men who was slightly lopsided in his saddle, his dark skin glistening with sweat. Despite his hat still being upon his head Amorette noticed a trickle of blood that was slowly progressing down the side of his face from his forehead. He waved his hand in the direction of the man who appeared to be of Spanish decent, "and Aramis here needs somewhere warm and dry to tend to his wound. We would be grateful for your hospitality Madame." He spoke with such assertiveness and finality that Amorette was sure that he thought she would not refuse him.

 _She could refuse_ , she supposed. It was her home after all, her hospitality. There was no reason for anyone to question her decision if she did refuse. Amorette was a young woman living alone in an isolated manor house with only a maid and a small child for company. Letting four men into her home; even musketeers with only the purest of gentlemanly intentions would still be frowned upon if anyone were to hear of it. It would be a miracle if anyone did hear of it though. Perhaps she wasn't talked about enough. Decision made, she became aware of six sets of eyes on her; the piercing blue gaze of Athos' the most scrutinizing. Somehow she felt unable to speak. She simply moved to the side to let them pass and said nothing.

Amorette let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding when Athos nudged his horse forward and she was no longer in his eye line. She wasn't acknowledged by Porthos either, who seemed to be putting all his energy into staying upon his horse. The man named Aramis nodded to her and smiled again, placing his hat against his chest in apparent gratitude as he did so. When he too had directed his horse towards the house Amorette took more notice of the fourth man. He was far younger than the other three. Whilst they were all well-built and sported fashionable beards that were bound to be all the range in Paris; this young man was clean shaven and rather thin. She supposed he could even be younger than her. He too smiled at her as he nudged his horse onwards.

The tension in the air dissipated as the musketeers reached the house, but Amorette was still breathing rather quickly. She was acutely aware of the rise and fall of her breasts as they strained against her tight bodice. She came crashing down to earth with the placement of a rather small hand in hers. She looked down to find Pauline almost hidden in her skirts. The child looked almost more bewildered than Amorette was herself. Amorette gave the child's hand a squeeze, not knowing how to comfort her when she too felt confused as to the whole debacle.

They would have been happy to stand in such a fashion for a while but Elise's chiding broke their silent perplexity. "Oh for heaven's sake child! Rouse yourself." Amorette turned to her companion, and was instantly shocked to find herself the recipient of the command and not little Pauline as she had first thought. "You must be the host! I shall see to their horses! Go now!" The last command was enforced with a small shove in the small of Amorette's back and she was separated from Pauline. The child was enveloped in Elise's embrace and walking stiffly up the path Amorette did rouse herself. Athos was going to think her akin to the wet linens that were hanging to dry at the back of the house if she didn't conduct herself properly. She quickened her pace to a brisk walk. Observing the musketeers helping Porthos down from his horse and towards the door she followed them out of the afternoon sun and into the relative darkness of the hallway.

They halted and looked about them. The blue eyes were upon her again. "The use of this room is agreeable?" questioned Athos as he gestured to the first door.

Amorette bristled slightly at the cold tone in which he addressed her, but she did not let it travel to her features. Instead she smiled. "Use whichever room is of your choosing Messieurs."

Porthos was leaning heavily on Aramis as Athos strode ahead and opened the doors to the parlour. The large room boasted six large south facing windows that bathed the room in warm golden sunlight at this time of day and the green décor of the room made it seem almost as if it were a part of the gardens outside. Aramis and Porthos followed Athos into the room and Porthos deposited himself heavily onto a couch. The younger man who had not yet been introduced to her gestured for Amorette to enter the room and he followed afterwards, immediately taking off his Jerkin and depositing it in a chair opposite Porthos.

Immediately Amorette was drawn to Athos, who had never before been in this house. How she had imagined as a young child that he would stand in this room regularly, admiring the aspect of the house and asking of the people depicted in the portraits that were upon the walls. It felt strange now; almost other-worldly after all that had happened that he was here now. He seemed to be admiring the room at first but Amorette quickly realised that he was looking for something. His gaze fell upon the old fashioned pistols that were pinned to the wall above the fire place in decoration. Amorette had never been able to reach the pistols in all her lifetime and tall though they all were; she doubted that any of the four men would be able to either without the aid of a stool or chair.

Athos turned to her abruptly, finding her already watching him. "Have you any other muskets in the house?" Amorette was taken aback by his question, but her quizzical expression prompted him to explain more without her questions. "I do not believe we were followed but it would be wise to take precautions whilst we are in your house."

"We lost some of our weapons on the road," explained Aramis from where he sat with Porthos, "Don't be alarmed. It's more a case of us musketeers feeling rather lost without weapons than the threat of any danger." He smiled at her, and it reached his warm brown eyes. Amorette knew in that second that he was a heart-breaker. Aramis was the kind of man who treated women so well that even the most hostile of break-ups would be looked upon fondly by the woman. He took off his Jerkin too and helped Porthos with his. Athos was now the only one of the four who stood upon any kind of ceremony. When he looked at her pointedly Amorette realised that she hadn't answered his question.

"There are guns. I'll have to find them though." At her answer Athos turned away from her. For a moment she hesitated, not sure what else she was expected to say. How was she to justify herself to him when he was behaving as if she'd disappointed him in some way. Deciding to forget about him completely she turned to Aramis who was now inspecting Porthos' head wound. The cut didn't look deep and seemed to have stopped bleeding but there was quickly drying blood on his face. "Is there anything you need?"

Aramis smiled at her gratefully again. "Some water and some cloth please? A thin needle and some thread if you have it would be wonderful too."

Amorette left the room in search of his requested items, feeling relief as soon as she had crossed the threshold. It would be dark soon enough. The musketeers would most likely have to stay the night so she needed to build up a steely resolve before she returned to the parlour. She found the needle and thread upstairs in an old sewing box that had once belonged to her mother. The drop in temperature made itself known to her as her bare feet slapped against the cold stone of the staircase. She bustled through the rustic passageways to the kitchen and gathered some cloth and a bowl of water. A delicate giggle pierced the silence and she realised Elise and Pauline must have made their way round to the back of the house again. She looked up and through the window in search of them but her view was hindered by the wet linen. An idea formed in her head and she slipped out of the back door and snagged a stretch of wet linen and carried it with her into the house again.

"Here," she said as she set Aramis' desired instruments on a side table and held out the already wet linen. "It's freshly washed; better to clean the wound with this." Amorette pressed the cool damp fabric into Aramis' hand and turned to go in search of the guns but she felt a hand grab her wrist.

"Thank you Madame." Aramis' polite gratitude came with his gentle squeeze of her hand. Amorette scuttled off again, heading down a tight flight of steps to the wine cellar. Grabbing an old piece of tarpaulin she began to gather some of the weapons and ammunition that were held in the bowels of the house, only stopping when she could carry no more weight back upstairs. Reaching the hallway, Amorette was all too aware of another set of weapons that were hidden within the house. She left the weapons from the cellar at the bottom of the stone staircase and ran to her own room. From her jewellery box she removed a small key. As she moved through the room she caught sight of a vile of lavender oil sitting on the table beside her bed. She plunged the vile into the pocket of her dress and rushed back downstairs.

All four men seemed shocked that Amorette could carry such a weight as she dumped the weapons unceremoniously onto the floor in front of the fireplace. Athos crouched to inspect them whilst Amorette made her way to the other side of the room, to the painting of another manor house not dis-similar to the one they were currently in. "Some of these will need a good clean before they are usable!" mused Athos as he fingered the trigger of one of the slightly older weapons.

Facing away from the room towards the painting, Amorette allowed herself a few seconds to close her eyes and let her anger dissipate before she simpered "well next time you want to set up a temporary musketeer garrison in my house, you should give me good notice, and I promise they will be buffed so well you'll be able to see your face in them!"

That earned an appreciative chuckle from Porthos. Still she did not turn around. Instead her attention fell upon the painting and the wall behind it. She ran a hand along the top of the wood panelling that covered the bottom half of the wall looking for a notch in the wood. Finding it, Amorette inserted the key and turned it clockwise. Nothing happened. She turned anti-clockwise and when she heard the catch behind the painting click she quickly stepped back a few paces as the painting swung forward and for the second time that day she was enveloped in a cloud of dust.

When the dust had all but cleared, Amorette ventured forward and looked into the hidden hole in the brick wall that the painting had concealed. The old rosewood box was exactly where it had been placed eight years ago. She had forgotten how heavy it was. As she lifted it and tuned to face the room, wiping the thick layer of dust from the lid as she did so; she was met with four pairs of curious eyes. Amorette crossed the room to where Athos still stood and presented him the box. "If its good condition you want. I'd say that these will have fared better over the years! You should have them, they are yours after all." Amorette wiggled the catch on the front of the box and a creak filled the room as she lifted the lid. Inside the box lay two of the most ornate pistols that Amorette had ever seen. She was sure they were worth more than most of the paintings in this room and the contents of her jewellery box put together. For a moment Amorette couldn't decipher just what lay behind the stoic facial expression, but as Athos gazed at the pistols that lay on a bed of rich red velvet she thought she saw a flicker of emotion, the first he had shown since he had entered her home that day. _Was it disbelief?_ Athos closed the remaining space between them and reached to take the box from her. Amorette tried to pass it to him swiftly, but despite her efforts his fingers still managed to momentarily brush hers as he took the box from her. That was all it took, that one touch was enough for her to want to be outside again. She wanted nothing more than to be as far from him as possible.

Unfortunately before Amorette could retreat, the silence was well and truly broken, "You two obviously know each other so are you going to introduce us?" grumbled Porthos as he glared pointedly at Athos.

The room was stifling. Athos seemed riled by the apparently obvious knowledge of their acquaintance whilst Aramis simply seemed bemused. Porthos and the other young man wore expressions of bewilderment. Amorette felt all eyes on her in that moment and she realised that she hadn't yet given her name. "Oh how silly of me," she chuckled nervously, "Not even telling you my name. It's Amorette."

"Just Amorette?" It was Aramis' turn to chuckle. He smiled knowingly at her for just a second before turning back to Porthos and beginning to clean his wound. Before she could reply though, Athos beat her to it.

"Aramis, Porthos, D'artagnan; May I introduce you to Mademoiselle Amorette Du Guillory, Cometess de La Feuillette. She is an old family friend."

Amorette hated her name. She hated the expectations that came with it. It was in complete juxtaposition to the quiet simple life that she led, and Athos knew that was how she felt. Perhaps that was why he was now trying to supress a grin as she squirmed under their scrutiny. She turned from him then, leaving him standing in front of the fire place holding his old pistols and made for the door. "Honestly no one's called me that in years," she simpered as she managed to put some distance between herself and Athos. "Amorette will do just fine. Do you need anything else?" She stopped by Porthos and Aramis and saw that the latter was ready to stitch the wound.

Porthos turned slightly towards her and tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace really. "The distraction of a pretty Mademoiselle is always recommended and welcome!" He patted the empty part of the couch that he currently sat upon. Amorette was struck by the notion that she couldn't really refuse an injured man no matter how much she wished to put space between herself and Athos. She rounded the couch and just as she was about to sit down Aramis put up a hand to stop her.

"Normally my sentiments about said distractions would be the same, but in this case I think it might be better Mademoiselle Amorette if you waited outside, Porthos can tend to let his fists do the talking where stitching is concerned."

Amorette complied, mentioning that she would have some rooms aired out for them all to rest in for the night. At once she was met with the protestations of all four men who declared themselves perfectly comfortable in the parlour and told her not to take the trouble. She remembered the vile of lavender oil in her pocket as she made to leave the room and scurried back to Aramis. She leaned over the back of the couch to give it to him and then rushed to the door again, completely missing the look that Aramis and Porthos had shared as she presented a considerably large amount of cleavage when she leaned. She took her leave of them then, slightly disgruntled at being dismissed as the host. More than anything, preparing the rooms for them would have given her something to do. Now she was left to content herself. She meandered into the kitchen and her pot of a simple stew reminded her that they would probably be in need of food. She spooned four rather large portions into bowls and placed them on a tray. To this she added a bottle of wine and some sliced bread and a slab of cheese. She left it there and went out into the garden in search of Pauline and Elise. The fading light told her that John would be coming from the village with his cart to fetch them both back home for the night. She found them picking lavender to take back to Pauline's mother. Amorette sank down onto the grass and watched them for a while, not sure how she expected her night to unfold. She would retire to bed soon to avoid Athos, that was a given, but she was unsure how long it would take for sleep to claim her. And what would the next day bring? Would they be gone before she woke, or would they find need to tarry? The anticipation of Elise and Pauline leaving for the day and of being able to escape to the sanctuary of her own room was almost overwhelming. So much so that Amorette was so enveloped in her own thoughts that she did not notice D'artagnan approaching until he placed himself upon the grass beside her.

"I do believe I owe you an apology," he said as he leaned back on his elbows. "You are a Mademoiselle. When we arrived I thought the child must have been yours that that you had a husband. She is your maid's child?"

"No." She turned to him then, and in the fading daylight she could see that he looked exhausted. "Pauline's mother lives in a nearby village. Her husband has been ill for some time and she cares for him day and night. I take care of the child for a few afternoons a week to try and lighten the load a little. It's not much in the way of help, I know. But the woman is proud and would not accept anything more." Amorette turned away from him and smiled at Elise as she passed and entered the house. Pauline was attempting to tie a pretty piece of ribbon around her picked lavender.

She became aware of D'artangnan's eyes on her as she watched the child for a few minutes. "I'm sure Pauline's mother appreciates it all the same. There can be no doubt that there will be others with the ability and opportunity to help who do nothing. But can I ask why? Why do you feel the need to help if she felt it unneeded?"

Still Amorette did not turn to look at him. She was unsure of what she would find there in his eyes if she did. Pity? Confusion? "My father was ill for a time when I was young," she began, "Even though we were perfectly able to compensate for his care my mother would take it all upon herself. She felt it her duty, as his wife to nurse him back to health. Shortly after my father began to recover though, my mother fell ill herself. She passed away. I would not see that happen again."

"And your father?" asked D'artagnan.

"He made a full recovery." Amorette found she was not able to disguise the note of bitterness in her voice and she knew that D'artagnan had not missed it when she turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry," he added in an undertone as if he felt that he was intruding.

"Don't be. You had no part in it." Amorette smiled at him reassuringly. "The house is my mother's. She had her own land and title. I count myself as very lucky that my mother came from an area in Champagne where women may inherit. Noblesse uterine, have you heard of it?"

"Yes, but I've not before met someone who benefited from it. I'm to take it that if your father had inherited your mother's legacy, it would have been a bad thing?" D'artagnan sat up straight then, and turned towards her slightly, his interest piqued.

Amorette almost snorted in laughter, but caught herself just in time. Instead she let out a rather girlish chuckle. "It would have been a very bad thing indeed. A small part of him still believes it's all rightfully his though. He's English you see, so he doesn't quite understand Noblesse uterine."

"That was you singing earlier then?" he asked. "We heard you from the road. Your father taught you the song?"

"No! That is, yes it was me singing," Amorette felt her face grow redder with every second. She had not thought that they had heard her singing. "But my mother taught me the song, not my father." The thoughts of her terrible singing voice were enough to make her want to rush to the stems of lavender and hide herself within them so she swiftly changed the subject. "You all seem very adept at avoiding the obvious don't you? Not one of you has asked how Athos and I know one another yet."

D'artagnan leant back on his elbows again, growing uncomfortable. "Athos is a closed book where things like that are concerned. When he introduced you he told us you were a family friend. That in itself is more information than expected. Perhaps you would be as good as to tell me Mademoiselle?"

Amorette didn't know where to look when he asked her that. If he really didn't know, then she wasn't about to tell him. She couldn't even bare to speak the name aloud let alone explain all the circumstances around their connection. She was almost certain that Aramis knew though. His outburst when they had first arrived was proof. She bore no ill will to the young man beside her at all, but she would leave it to his friends to explain the particulars. The story was not hers to tell after all. He was still waiting for an answer and was looking at her expectantly. She shook her head at him in apology, afraid that if she spoke her voice would crack. Amorette thought he seemed to understand, but all further questioning was cut off when Pauline came upon them. D'artagnan shifted a little so that she could sit between them on the grass. He was badgered with questions from the child for the next while, which he answered good naturedly and with enthusiasm. It was getting harder and harder for Amorette not to think of the circumstances that had rendered Athos and herself no longer as close as they had been years ago but it was inevitable now that his friends were asking about it. The solace of her bedroom was calling to her more than ever.

Amorette's prayers were answered when Elise came from the house to announce that John had come to collect Pauline and herself back to the village and that a bath had been drawn in her room. Amorette was all gratefulness as she walked with Elise through the house to the front door. Little Pauline still chittered away to D'artagnan as she walked, clinging to his hand. All too soon they were in the cart and on their way home.

"I think you've made a new friend," Amorette chuckled as she lightly nudged D'artagnan and pointed at the cart in the distance from where Pauline was still waving. "You are all extremely tired, and I'm sure you'll want to leave early tomorrow morning, so I'll away to bed now. There's food in the kitchen for you all."

Amorette turned to enter the house again but stopped at the sound of D'artagnan's voice. "You didn't have to go to the trouble!" he said without turning to face her. "You've been very kind. Thank you Madame." Amorette didn't reply. She made her way upstairs then and into her room. Closing the door upon the rest of the house should have been a relief, with her comfy bed waiting for her and the warm air of the room scented from the oils and petals that had been added to the bath tub and warm water but she'd forgotten to eat herself in all the commotion.

Deciding to go downstairs and bring some bread and cheese back up with her, Amorette got hallway down the stairs before the male voices were discernible and the conversation they were having was clear.

"Who is she?" asked D'artagnan with force behind his words. It was clear to Amorette that he had already asked the question and received no answer.

There were footsteps then, and Amorette shrank back into the shadows at the top of the staircase. "Are you going to tell him or shall I?" muttered Aramis. They were in the hallway now. She chanced to peek around the bannister and saw that Porthos was the last to leave the parlour. Perhaps Athos and Aramis shared a look of some sort; she couldn't be sure as Athos faced away from her. Then he marched to another set of doors that led to the dining room. It was a room Amorette had no cause to use very often and Athos even less so but she knew what his intentions were in that moment. He could not bring himself to put into words the origins of their connection.

When he opened the doors and entered the room. The others filed in after him. There was silence for a moment and Amorette crept down a few steps to hear better. She knew that in a few seconds the painting above the fireplace would make everyone aware of just what it was that connected Athos to her. In her mind she saw the painting of two women sitting together that had been commissioned eight years ago. She was still a child when she had sat for it.

"But that's Milady De Winter?" D'artagnan was the first to speak, and Amorette knew that he was looking at the painting.

"And Mademoiselle Amorette," muttered Porthos, "A portrait like that can mean only one thing-"

"Sisters?" came D'artagnan's incredulous interruption. Amorette and Milady are sisters?"

 _ **"Lavender's Blue," (perhaps sometimes called "Lavender Blue,") is an English folk song and nursery rhyme dating to the 17th century.**_

 _ **Inheritance was recognized only in the male line, with a few exceptions (noblesse uterine) in the formerly independent provinces of Champagne, Lorraine and Brittany.**_

 _ **Amorette is a French name meaning Little Love. Du Guillory means powerful.**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Will the musketeer's judge Amorette based on her familial connection? Or will they be gentlemen and Judge her for herself alone?**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

For many moments there was silence. None of the four men in the dining room dared to speak, and the lady on the stairs couldn't have even if she wanted to. Amorette was terrified that the musketeers would hear the frantic beating of her heart from where she stood. She began to slip quietly back upstairs, but the beginning of a conversation halted her steps.

"Milady and Amorette are half-sisters. They share the same mother." Athos' words lacked emotion. He spoke as if he had no more knowledge of the women than their names.

"Oh and let me guess," grumbled Porthos as Amorette heard him pull out a chair from the table and sit, "Mademoiselle Amorette had the perfect childhood with parents that doted on her and she never wanted for anything, whilst Milady had a miserable childhood and suffered greatly. That reasoning would never excuse some of her actions."

"Actually, things were quite the contrary to what you suggest." Again Athos had spoken with cold civility, and Amorette began to feel not just anger towards the man but disappointment. They had been the closest of friends once and she thoroughly believed he should have had more of a care for her when he spoke of her life. There was not a note of passion in his voice at all. Perhaps if she had cared somewhat less about him she might have clattered downstairs into the room and confronted him, but despite knowing he cared very little for her she could not bring herself to destroy any good opinion he might still have of her. She stood still on the stairs, determined not to become overwhelmed as he began to tell her story.

"Milady De Winter was born out of wedlock to Phillipe De Breuil and the Cometess De La Feuillette. I believe they first met at French court and the affair was short lived. Her mother and father were both nobility and as would be expected in such a case, Milady grew up loved and cared for. She lived with her father who doted on her. Her every need was catered for. That is until she left home and became the wretch that I met before I married her. She is a product of her upbringing. She is selfish and cruel because that is what she learned from her father. He taught her that her own importance, happiness and survival came above all else. She values her own life and situation above anyone else's. Milady's mother married eventually to an English gentleman by the name of Lord Percy Barclay. Whilst their mother cared for both of her daughters, her previous life before her marriage was not something that her husband permitted talk of. Thus Mademoiselle Amorette grew up without any knowledge of the half-sister that her mother bore. Her father was a cold, cruel and uncivil man who treated her abominably. As a woman she could not carry on his family line and this upset him greatly, but she could inherit the title and money that had been bestowed upon her mother. When her mother did pass away and she became a Cometess she was no longer confined to her father's rule. She had her own land and money and was therefore free. With her mother's death there had also come the news of her half-sister. Amorette was happy at the news, overwhelmingly so. I believe that she felt very alone in the world until she met Milady. For a while she was incandescently happy; she had the sibling that she had always dreamed of. They communicated in letters for a long time before they met. Things had begun to improve for her until she decided to introduce her sister to her closest friend."

"And this friend, was this you?" queried Porthos. Amorette assumed that Athos had nodded because there was silence for a few seconds.

"Wait!" called D'artagnan. "You met her sister first?"

"Yes." Athos' voice still seemed void of any emotion whatsoever. "We met through her cousin Charles. He owns land not too far from my estate. Amorette spent each summer season with her cousins at their home. She was just a young child when I met her, and I was barely a man. I do believe her mother wished for us to marry at some point and her father even discussed the prospect as possible, but I believe he had set his sights a little higher in terms of a husband for his only daughter. After Amorette broke from her father she and Milady arranged to meet. By that stage Milady had already fallen spectacularly from grace, but she was hiding it well. Amorette couldn't have been more welcoming to her, regardless of what her situation might have been. They even lived together for a time and Amorette began to involve her new sister into every aspect of her life, including her friendships. Milady had already quit the home she had shared with Amorette and was living elsewhere when I was introduced to her. The cracks in the relationship were already there, but my involvement with Milady made them gaping holes. The reality was that both sisters were very different. You must understand that Amorette was very dear to me, but Milady was unlike anyone I'd ever met. Instantly I had an inkling that she would be challenging to say the least. Very quickly my friendship with Amorette turned sour."

Amorette heard the chair that Porthos was sitting in shifting a little. "I'm sorry," he grumbled, "But I don't understand. You met Mademoiselle Amorette first but you chose to marry Milady?"

"Yes. I suppose it could be said that I did sacrifice our friendship, which had been a very long one; for the woman I intended to marry. Things were never the same after Milady and I were introduced. I knew that I wanted to marry her almost from the moment I met her."

"But why?" Porthos sounded genuinely confused. "Why would you choose Milady over Amorette if you knew there was something off about her from the beginning? Why not choose the friend who you knew and trusted?"

"Why not choose the woman who is half in love with you. It's very clear to even me!" It seemed D'artagnan was much more than just their young tag along. Amorette didn't think he'd have figured her out so quickly.

"Yes." Athos almost sounded defeated now. Amorette supposed that at least some sort of emotion was beginning to surface. "I knew how intense Amorette's feelings were. That was what made it harder. I broke the heart of someone I cared deeply about. That is something I do regret. But things could not have been different. She chose to leave. She didn't attend our wedding and we saw nothing of her throughout our marriage. This is the first time that I have seen her since a few days before I married Milady. She chose not to inflict any more pain on herself by staying in our lives. If she had not left I believe I would have suggested that Milady and I departed. I would not have wished to cause Amorette more pain."

Amorette almost left the staircase and entered the room. She wanted to look at him. She wanted to see if there truly was any hurt in his eyes when he spoke of her pain. It angered her to hear that he thought her pain disposable. She felt ashamed then, because it must have been so obvious to everyone around her that she had feelings for him. She always had thought herself a bit of a fool for loving Athos, but in that moment she felt it with more force than ever before. He would never regret choosing Milady. He would never regret spurning her.

"But Amorette…she's lovely!" exclaimed D'artagnan.

She had not expected that. She felt her face heat as the blush ran from her toes to her forehead.

Then came the voice that had been silent throughout the whole conversation. "We cannot help who we love, that's the thing." Aramis' voice sounded muffled, as if he was standing further away from the others. Then there was silence. But Amorette did not notice it for she was already making her way back upstairs as the tears threatened to fall. She could not bear to hear any more.

Amorette bathed until the water was cold. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't notice the temperature changing. She only got out of the bath when she realised that she was shivering. Things had fallen silent downstairs. For a while she had heard the indiscernible murmur of voices but now all that she could hear was her own breathing. Her appetite lost and hoping for sleep she got into bed and waited, but sleep never came. After what felt like hours Amorette re lit her candles and tried to read for a bit. She read in bed, on the chaise at the end of the bed and even on the window seat; stopping every so often to stare out into the black abyss that was the countryside. Still, tiredness did not come. She was not hungry, but Amorette resolved that some food and a glass of wine might help. She crept downstairs and heard the sound of heavy breathing coming from the parlour. Assured that she was the only occupant of the house awake she carried on into the kitchen.

Amorette took some bread and cheese, her book clenched between her teeth in a rather unladylike manner, so that she could carry her candle in one hand and her plate in the other. In the dining room she poured herself a glass of wine from the decanter and sat at the table, knees pulled up against her chest as she read some more. The end of the glass of wine brought with it a slightly unfocused feeling. She folded a page to mark her place in the book, knowing it was senseless to try to read any more now. She turned towards where the decanter sat on the side, debating whether to have another glass or not. Surely one would be enough to help her sleep.

The sound of floorboards creaking made her jump. It wasn't one of the usual sounds that the house made during the night and for a few seconds she was alarmed, sitting stock still in her chair listening for more. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to startle you." Athos' voice broke the silence and Amorette breaded a sigh of relief and turned towards the doorway, barely able to see him in the gloom. He moved into the room towards her and on impulse Amorette reached for the wine and another glass. Before she could pour though, ever the gentleman he held out his hand to take the decanter from her. He poured the glasses and pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat at a right angle to her. For a few moments there was silence between them as they both sipped their wine. Then he lifted her book from the table and turned it over in his hand so that he could see what it was.

All of a sudden he let out a snort of laughter and threw Amorette's copy of Thomas Moore's Utopia back onto the table. "You have no place reading that!" he barked.

She ignored his comment. He had always teased her, and it never meant anything. She pulled her book back towards her. They sat in silence for a few more minutes. All that Amorette could think of was how he had appeared earlier that day with an injured friend, covered in dirt and exhausted from their ride. He had galloped towards the house with such a sense of urgency and authority, clearly in the knowledge that he would not be turned away. He had presumed too much for Amorette's liking. In all probability when she woke the next day he and his friends would be on their way to wherever it was they intended to be, and she would be left to deal with the memories that he had rekindled all over again. _Why had he come though_? He knew that the house was here, and that she owned it, but if he cared for her at all then why would he wish to put her in this position? Amorette looked up to find him deep in thought, becoming aware that he had not actually explained why he and his three friends were riding for three days or why Porthos was injured. _Air-brained fool_ , she chastised herself. Could her embarrassment become any greater? She had been so distracted, so captivated by his being here that she had completely overlooked the lynch pin of why they were not in Paris.

"Why are you here, in Provins?" Athos head snapped round, his eyes locking onto hers with such intensity in them that Amorette debated whether he really had been so deep in thought after all. "You said that you were sure you hadn't been followed. Who was it that might have followed you; the same person or persons who caused Porthos' Injury?"

Athos was silent for a few seconds, but Amorette knew it was not a hesitation. He had always spoken so freely to her when they were younger and she hadn't changed. She could tell that he knew that.

"We left Paris a few weeks ago on the tail of a pair of what we believe to be spies from Prussia. There have been indications that many noblemen and ambassadors traveling to and from other countries are at risk from a Huguenot plot of some sort. Intelligence has been leaked about these men, who are in fact an elite task force sent out by the king to recover vital information on the Huguenot state of affairs. Someone is trying to send the King a message via attacks on these men. Three have been seriously injured and one has died. The last attack was in Montereau-Fault-Yonne, not far from here. It seems the culprits might have lingered for a time; long enough for us to catch up with them it seems. They ambushed us on the road and I think they came off rather worse than us, but we lost track of them. People believe these men; hand-picked by the king to gather information are Huguenot sympathisers. The nearby area was briefly held during the wars of religion, and there may be some resentment and fury bubbling under the surface. Perhaps our spies are being helped by locals who believe they are doing some good in helping to stop these men."

"You don't need to try to justify the cause to me," sighed Amorette. "One of those men is a friend of mine. He has just returned from Prussia. He is a well-liked man; it's hard to believe someone would want to harm him over all of this."

Athos ears had peaked at the mention of Amorette's friend. "This friend of yours? Has he been in the area recently?"

Yes," she confirmed. She squirmed inwardly at the embarrassment of the situation. Would she really have to admit all the particulars to him? Her friendly ambassador was a private man and it wouldn't do to share what she knew. At any rate, Athos would probably think it of no consequence. Amorette was made uncomfortable merely because it involved her. No need to tell others when there had been no harm done really. "I will not speak his name, for not many knew that he was involved in this business. A large party stayed here a few days ago. This man and his wife were among them, but don't fret, I've already received word that they are safely arrived in Paris and mean to be there for some time. They are perfectly safe and well."

Athos rubbed his bearded chin in thought. "That is good news and I thank you for it, but perhaps it was your friend then that our spies tarried to try and catch a hold of. They will have gone to ground in a small village or on a farm of no consequence. That is why I chose to come here instead of seeking shelter in a village. I did not know whether the lady of the house would be home, but I thought even your stables would be preferable to potentially sharing an inn with our assailants. They will be trying to remain unnoticed. You haven't heard or seen anything that might have been suspicious?"

Amorette shook her head. "You should enquire with some of the villagers on your way through though. If there was anything to be seen or heard I'm sure that they will have better knowledge of it than me."

"We shall," Athos confirmed.

They fell into silence again. Amorette was at a loss as to where the conversation would go next. Where it did go though, was what startled her. "How are you?" Amorette's jaw dropped at the abrupt question. She turned to look at him but he was clearly avoiding her eye line. His question left her a little unnerved.

She stuttered a little as she debated how to answer him. "Fi…I…Spectacular." Amorette heard the hint of sarcasm in her tone and was sure that Athos had too. He grimaced a little, as if her irony was a painful reminder that her situation in life was somewhat his doing. He faced her then, posing a silent question with the simple raising of an eyebrow. "Honestly," she said, a sincere smile graced her face then. "I am well."

Athos sighed and poured himself another wine whilst she covered her glass with her hand to decline some more. "Well does not necessarily mean happy though," he stated.

Amorette drained the dregs of wine from her glass to give her more time to think of a reply. His eyes seemed rather sad now, as if he pitied her and that, more than anything was what she didn't want. As a child he had not seen her as weak. She wished to be remembered always as she was. She was not her sister. Amorette did not change name and character at the drop of a hat as Ann had done. Amorette supposed that she must have been the one consistent thing in his life at a point and she wanted him to see her as that always. If nothing else she had been the one constant.

"Whilst I do strive to be happy…" Amorette drew out her words in to long syllables, her reply still forming in her mind. "I do not believe I need to be. It's all well and good to want something Athos, but once we get it we turn into something rather foul I think. Once we have what we have always wanted, we in turn want more. We strive further, pushing the boundaries. The thing is, that sometimes even for the best of us; getting what we think will make us happy makes us more miserable in the end. It makes us needy. Perhaps not fighting for the thing I want most in the world makes me seem weak. But I think it rather shows strength of character, without blowing my own trumpet of course. There are some things; I perceive were meant to stay in the realm of dream and fantasy. To be dreamt and wondered about, to delve into when we feel most vulnerable. Then when we feel strength again we can shed it, and relish in the fact that we don't really need our dreams and wishes to hold us up."

"I take it back then…" he whispered. "The book really does suit you!"

Amorette chuckled as she stood, taking her candle and book with her. "I'll away to bed and let you get some sleep." She left the room quietly, well aware of the three men sleeping soundly in her parlour. Before she could reach the stairs though, Athos called her back with a whisper.

"I must confess I am a little disappointed in you," he sighed. Amorette swiftly recalled his dissatisfied expression earlier when she had deposited the weapons from the cellar in front of him. "I thought you would have taken more of a care, being a young woman living alone. Those muskets you dug out of the cellar are old and tired. More importantly they were buried. You should have pistols firmly at your disposal should you need them. If there were an attack on this house how would you defend yourself?"

That was why he was disappointed. Amorette felt her heart flutter at his obvious concern. She was ready with a quick witted reply though. "Athos those guns are old and battered. I would not presume to use them in any situation that posed risk to my life for fear that I'd shoot my own face off. There are many sets of pistols around this house, one in almost each room I think. They are not unlike yours that I presented to you earlier and are of similar value. Do you really think I regularly expose my weapons to just anyone? Whilst I know you all to be gentlemen I do not know your three friends! Besides you are musketeers, you don't use antique duelling pistols! Well, I suppose you might, but your friends don't! Those muskets I gave you were more suited and would have fared better for long range. Also, quite a few of the sets of pistols I have hidden belong to my father. Heaven forbid he should show up one day and demand to see them. If he found so much as a speck of dirt upon one of them he would most likely shoot me with it! But you should have known that, Athos. It's to be expected with these great houses and their families. As well you should know, Monsieur Comte De La Fère. Goodnight." She left him standing at the bottom of the stairs and climbed, not looking back on him as she went. A small smile graced her lips as she closed the door to her room. Perhaps the use of his title would annoy him, but she didn't care. She also took a moment to dwell on the fact that they had not mentioned Ann once. She supposed tonight would have been the perfect opportunity to ask the question that had been burning within her since she had seen him atop his horse, galloping towards her that afternoon.

At the first sign that the sky was beginning to lighten, Amorette gave up on her non-existent rest entirely and began to dress. She knew Elise would moan at her for dressing herself, but she couldn't face another few hours in her room doing nothing. It took twice as long to dress herself as it normally would with someone helping but Amorette found it to be a distraction. She fought with her corset for quite some time before it was anywhere near tight enough. Eventually though, she got there. She pulled a dress from the top of the pile, not really paying attention to which one she had picked and put it on. It was only as she turned to the mirror that she got a shock. The dress was old. She was sure it was something that she owned even before she had introduced her sister to Athos. What had shocked her was how loose the dress was. The dress hadn't been worn in a while and Amorette knew that the ill-fitting wasn't due to the tightness of her corset as she had laced it herself. She plucked at the loose material around her waist, contemplating that at least it wouldn't be uncomfortably tight. It gaped slightly around her breasts as well, which was even more of a surprise. She had always been extremely well endowed when it came to her breasts, and although they still looked pretty ample when confined in her corset, there was still a difference. She supposed she had finally lost some of her 'baby-weight' over the last few months. Surveying the reflection on her face, she realised that she looked tired and withdrawn. It seemed everyone was to be aware that she had not slept the night before. She pinched her cheeks to try to bring some colour to her otherwise Ivory skin and bit her bottom lip in the hope that more blood would flow there. Looking out at the weather, Amorette saw that it was over clouded, and would remain grey and miserable when daylight had reached its peak. She pulled on stockings to combat a potential cold snap and then decided on some heeled slippers. Putting them on, her lack of height felt a little less inadequate than it had done the day before.

Ever conscious of her sleeping occupants, Amorette tiptoed in her heels until she made it to the kitchen, where the click of heels would not be heard from the front of the house. Fully aware of her lacking appetite, Amorette picked up a wicker basket and headed outside to collect the hanging linen that she had forgotten about in the commotion of the day before. She started with the furthest linens and made her way back towards the house. Pulling the last linen down, Amorette stopped a squawk of surprise from escaping by placing a hand over her mouth. Athos had been stood behind the piece of linen. He did not apologise for startling her as he had done the night before, instead choosing to catch the linen as it fell. He dropped it into the basket with the others and bent to lift it for her, but Amorette got there first. Despite its heavy weight, Amorette yanked the basket out of his reach before he could lay his hands on it and walked around him towards the house.

"Let me help?" He had caught up with her and yet again she had to direct the basket out of his reach.

"NO!" she snarled. "I've done this every day for the last eight years on my own Athos, I think I can handle another basket of linen, heavy or not!"

"You shouldn't have to." He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "You should have more than one maid to help you, and you shouldn't be staying out here alone each night." Amorette simply scowled. "What's gotten into you? I thought we had somewhat put our grievances behind us last night!"

Amorette snorted in laughter and turned to face him, still clinging to the heavy basket. Perhaps it was due to her lack of sleep or maybe it was his criticism of her lifestyle that did it, or the fact that he'd had every opportunity to be honest with her since he had arrived the day before. Or perhaps it was all of the frustration, emotion and anger that she had felt towards him since she was a young girl. Whatever it was in that moment, it snapped.

"When were you going to tell me? Perhaps it's for the best that I already know that my sister is still alive, no thanks to you! But when were you going to tell me!" Amorette was aware that she was screaming, but she didn't care. "Were you going to leave today without telling me? Did you think I was better off not knowing? Didn't you ever think that I deserved to know? She's my sister! You should have told me as soon as you found out! You didn't have to come to me you know, you could have written to me! You could have hidden behind a piece of paper and four words! 'Your sister is alive!' Four words Athos. I think we all know what the reality is, don't we? You never really spared me a thought did you? In all these years you've never once thought of me, and that I should know the truth! Admit it. I can't think of any other reason why you would keep the information from me. My own sister is alive in the world and you were quite happy to have me ignorant of it!"

Amorette stopped to take a breath, realising that they now had an active audience in the form of Aramis, D'artagnan and Porthos. Her outburst seemed to have taken Athos completely by surprise. Whilst his face remained stoic and cold, Amorette could see a war going on behind his eyes. Would he try to apologise and explain his actions? Or would he defend them instead? For a while longer there was silence. Athos couldn't look her in the eye and Amorette felt her heart sink into her stomach. She supposed that she had expected some sort of explanation. Even though Amorette knew that everything that she had said was true, she might have been able to accept it a bit more if he had at least tried to spare her feelings by making some sort of excuse. But he didn't.

"You never considered me once, did you?" Amorette's voice was quieter now, almost a whisper. "I never crossed your mind. I am sorry now that I held you in such high esteem. Our friendship clearly did not mean very much to you at all." Amorette could hear the despair in her voice, and feel it too. Still he could not bring himself to look at her. "You need to leave!" snarled Amorette as she turned on her heel and stalked back into the house, avoiding the stares of the other men.

Barricaded in her room, Amorette took to folding the now dry linens to keep her hands from shaking. She would not cry, because she didn't really have a reason to be upset. The knowledge of her sister's being alive was not new to her, but her anger at Athos' lack of care towards her was something that she felt well founded. Ever since she was a young child, almost since the first time they had met; Amorette had elevated Athos' to almost that of a mythical creature. As a young child she had adored him even though she saw him very little. As a young lady she saw him a lot more, but it became harder for her to believe that he was her friend. That was probably because it was no longer just feelings of close friendship that Amorette harboured for Athos. Still folding, she moved to the window where she would be able to watch the musketeers leave. Amorette had planned to stay hidden until they were gone, but seeing Elise making her way along the road towards the house rendered that course of action impossible. Amorette would have to go downstairs to greet her.

The musketeers were outside readying their horses. Seeing that Elise was still quite a distance from the house, Amorette sat on the bottom stair and waited. She would have thought the house empty save herself if not for a movement to her right. Slightly startled, she turned to find Athos emerging from the passageway to the kitchen. Perhaps she could ignore him until he left. That hope was dashed though when he approached and stopped in front of her. Strangely Amorette found she was glad that he had. She was not a rude person and thought she could at least muster a cordial nod as he left the house. She turned back to see his friends already mounting their horses.

Turning back towards him, Amorette was quite sure that he didn't know what to say to her. He surprised her again though. "You were right. I did not consider you because I did not consider telling you of the change of events. I thought that you would certainly be happier and more content without that kind of knowledge. Whilst you and Ann are family I do not believe that she has any interest in probing or delving into your life. The circles that she regularly moves in are so very different to your own that there is relatively no chance of it. I believe I thought I was doing you a service in keeping it from you. But I'll readily admit that since my brother's death I've been somewhat disconnected to familial judgements. I was in error to keep the news of Ann from you Mademoiselle. You are all kindness and devotion; and still have a care for your sister. I let my own unconstructive mind-set decide what was best for you and did not have a regard for your feelings." If this had all been said with some amount of emotion lacing the words, Amorette supposed that she might just have believed some of it. None the less, she appreciated the effort to part on amicable if not good terms. Where his words had lacked emotion, Amorette found it in Athos' eyes. She knew it was not related to her in any way. Only one woman would ever be able to crack that hard exterior and release a tenderness so great that it could warm the English Channel. He was thinking of Ann again. All that Amorette could do was nod to him. She could not find words to express just how she felt.

Athos ventured outside and Amorette followed him and stood in the doorway. Immediately she sensed the critical eyes of Aramis upon them, assessing the situation. She smiled lightly at him and he returned the gesture, averting his eyes on finding that she was in a better humour than earlier.

Saying goodbye was a simple affair. Athos merely nodded, and she to him but the other men were more vocal and thanked her for the hospitality. Porthos looked a good deal better. The wound was currently concealed by his hat but his temperament seemed far improved and he sat upon his horse as if nothing fazed him. Amorette let out the biggest sigh of relief when they took their leave. They passed Elise at the gate and doffed their hats before being on their way again and Elise's curious stare made Amorette want to curl up into a ball and forget the last day altogether.

Hours later, anger had dissipated into the need to keep busy. Amorette was currently on her hands and knees in the largest guest room, cleaning under the bed. She was so determined to keep busy that all of that day's work was already completed and she had made a start on airing out the upstairs rooms. She had already pulled apart her own room whilst Elise had made herself some lunch. Amorette's own appetite still hadn't returned so she had ploughed on with the work.

The guest room completed, Amorette pushed her torso out from under the bed and made to sit up. A resounding crack and a sharp pain in the back of her head told her she'd lifted her head too soon. She pulled herself out a little further and sat up, gingerly cupping the back of her head with her hand. She leaned against the bed for a few minutes, letting the pain subside. It was then that she noticed it. There was a piece of folded paper wedged between the headboard of the bed and the wall. It took some force to pull it free, but once she did Amorette unfolded it to find an elegant handwritten list.

It didn't take long for Amorette to realise just what the list was. This was a list of the men that Athos had spoken of the night before; the men handpicked by the King to aid the Huguenot cause. One of the party that had stayed a few days ago had made use of this room. That would explain the list, and as she checked she realised that her friend's name was absent from it. What she found a little suspicious though was that beside each name there was the name of a border town or port. Thinking that they might have been an indication of where the men had re-entered France, Amorette opened out a further folded part of the list to find that there was a sum of money also written there, connected to each name. Three of the names had stars beside them, and the name at the very bottom had been crossed out completely. The one thing that made Amorette entirely sure of just what she had found though was that beside the crossed out name someone had written the word _'fini'. Finished?_ Amorette felt the paper for any other folds. Finding none she shot to her feet calling for Elise.

When her maid popped her head round the door Amorette dashed towards her. "When was this room last aired Elise?" stammered Amorette. She was so worried about the answer that she could barely speak.

"Before those fancy friends of yours stayed Madame, the young couple stayed in this room. Emile Du Leroux and his wife." Confusion blanketed Elise's face. "Why, is something wrong?"

Amorette could hear the cogs turning in her own mind. She looked down at the peace of paper in her hand, hoping that what she had seen was not really there. "Of course! The Prussian Ambassador, his wife; and his Prussian mistress!" Amorette slammed her hand against the door frame in frustration, furious with herself for not seeing what had been right in front of her face all along. There was only one thing for her to do. "I need to ride for Paris, immediately!"

 _ **Has Amorette thrown herself right into the thick of it? I think so!**_

 _ **I'm not an expert on French history, so the loosely based facts may not be totally accurate. I've jumbled some of them about to suit Amorette too.**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Sometimes I think Amorette is far too soft, and that secretly in her head she wanders around singing 'Hopelessly devoted to you' from Grease. Doesn't really fit with her morals and beliefs, but that makes her human right?**_

 _ **I only own Amorette**_.

Elise had tried to persuade Amorette to stay, and to send a letter instead of completing her errand in person but Amorette had known that she would have to explain things in person for it to make sense. It was dark by the time she reached the outskirts of Paris. Finding the musketeer garrison posed quite a problem, but Amorette found that the deeper into the city she went the more musketeers she saw. After being pointed in the right direction Amorette found it easy enough to find. She hoped she could get her explanation over with quickly and be on her way soon. Paris had always been her worst nightmare. The pomp and ceremony of court was not something that appealed to her after her life spent in the country. More than anything though, it frightened her because it was full of people like her sister. At court there was always the opportunity to rise and it made people the very worst that they could be. Both Amorette's father and sister had fallen victim to their belief in their own self-importance and that had affected everyone in their lives.

Finding the garrison, Amorette slowed her horse to a trot as she found herself coming out from under an archway into what looked to her like a large stable yard. Heads everywhere turned in her direction, but none that she recognised. For a moment she was unsure of what to do. Her horse had sensed her uneasiness and moved from hoof to hoof warily. Then Amorette thought she saw a hat she recognised emerge from the stables.

"Mademoiselle?" queried Aramis when he caught sight of her. That he was shocked to see her was evident. He rushed forward to help her down from her horse. "Is everything alright? Do you need assistance with some matter?" On impulse he had taken the reigns of her horse from her and had stepped closer in case she did not wish to be overheard.

"Actually," sighed Amorette, "I think it's I who can assist you Monsieur. But I'd rather explain it just once, to all four of you if possible?"

A look of curiosity or was it suspicion crossed his face before he nodded. "Of course, the others are not here though. Will you permit me to take you to them Mademoiselle?"

When Amorette gave her permission Aramis led her horse into the stables before returning and offering his arm to her. Amorette took it and the two walked back under the archway into the streets. Aramis' instruction to stay close did not fall on deaf ears now that Amorette was only supported by her own two feet. Upon her horse Amorette had felt a certain security that was lacking now that her sex was made more noticeable by her lack of height. Their short walk led them to a tavern and in the few seconds before they entered, Amorette felt slightly apprehensive. There was no need to feel that way however. When they entered the gloomy room that was brightly lit by many candles it was to find it populated by both men and women alike. There were many young grisettes in respectable dress littered about and Amorette relaxed immediately. Aramis seemed to notice this, turning to smile at her before he unhooked their arms and led her through the throng of occupied tables. Moving further into the tavern towards the back of the room where there were more unoccupied tables and the atmosphere was less chaotic, they found Athos, D'artagnan and Porthos. D'artagnan and Porthos were deep in conversation, their wine long forgotten but Athos sat a little apart from them with his glass firmly still in hand.

"Messieurs, it seems we have a visitor!" announced Aramis as Amorette pulled off her hat and a few tendrils of her hair fell loose. At once all three men were on their feet. Porthos and D'artagnan shared a look that wasn't unlike the one that had befallen Aramis only a short while ago. The most intense gaze she received was from Athos. Whilst the others didn't move he strode forward a little, the glass in his hand hanging as if forgotten.

"What's happened?" Athos' voice had lost the gruffness from the day before and now held a concerned curiosity.

"Let's fetch the Mademoiselle a seat first, after all she's come a long way!" Aramis reached for a seat from an adjacent table and motioned for Amorette to sit. Only once she was seated did they all do the same. Amorette fumbled with the pocket in her skirts looking for the piece of paper whilst all four men shared a glance. Amorette's movements caused her cloak to fall away slightly to reveal the brace of pistols around her waist. Immediately Aramis and Porthos grinned at each other upon sight of them, but Athos took up a different thread of thought entirely.

"Did you travel here alone?"

"Yes," confirmed Amorette, speaking again before Athos could interrupt her, "I had no choice. I have some information for you and you needed to hear it tonight."

"What kind of information?" Athos' tone was gruff again.

Amorette pulled out the piece of folded paper. "I told you last night that I had friends staying with me recently, and I found something this morning in the room that they stayed in." Athos held out his hand for the piece of paper, but Amorette took it out of his reach. "This friend of mine, he is the Prussian ambassador Emile Du Leroux and I think this piece of paper has the information you need to catch the spies that you seek. When Emile stayed with me he was in the company of his wife Claire, but the more delicate subject matter is that there was also a mistress who accompanied him. I did not trouble to learn the girl's name. She was Prussian and did not speak much French. I sent her to the village to take rooms as it wouldn't have been appropriate for me to have her stay alongside Emile's wife. I will give you this information," Amorette presented the folded paper to them again, "but I have conditions." Porthos chuckled and Aramis smirked. "Emile's wife Claire is a friend of mine and I believe her to be innocent. I do understand that you Messieurs must investigate thoroughly but if you find her to be as innocent as I have done; don't leave her to the scorn and caprice of Paris court. Bring her to me and I can help her. I'll book her passage on a ship to England."

For a few seconds there was silence around the table. The men shared glances with each other, but all knew that it was Athos who would make the decision. Amorette could read nothing in his face, and she thought he might refuse to accept her terms.

"Agreed," he said, reaching for the paper. "But only if we find her to be innocent."

Amorette let Athos take the paper from her and unfold it. She watched as all four men scrutinised the paper, looking for incriminating evidence. "What exactly is this?" asked D'artagnan to no one in particular.

When no one else spoke up to explain Amorette realised that she would have to. "Can I ask… does the name at the end of the list, the one that's crossed out match to that of the man who died?"

"Yeah, but what does that have to do with anything?" asked Porthos.

"It's a list. Those are the names of the ambassadors and nobles involved with the Huguenot investigation. Emile Du Leroux is missing from it. That piece of paper was wedged between the headboard of the bed and the wall. Someone deliberately tried to hide it. And before you ask, no I did not see him actually put pen to paper and physically write the list! There's something that might help his wife's case though. What I'm about to tell you will stay between the four of us I hope? Claire Du Leroux cannot read or write. She didn't write that list. You said that the assailants you had an interaction with would be lying low in a village somewhere, but I was thinking. If you were wanting to hide, surely placing yourself at a great house within a group of nobles and with the protection of your own good name and that of your friends; well isn't that a better hiding place?" Her theory was met by the bewildered expressions of four men. "Well I thought it sounded plausible…" Amorette mustered more to herself than anyone else.

D'artagnan smiled at her as he took the paper from Athos. "No, what you say makes sense. If nothing else it gives us something to look into."

"And you came all this way just to deliver this information to us? Alone?" The raising of Athos' eyebrows was enough to tell Amorette that he disapproved entirely. Amorette nodded. "Well that was rather foolish. You shouldn't have travelled alone, especially at this time of night."

"And there was I thinking a declaration of thanks was in order!" cried Amorette. "Here I am giving up information that seemingly makes my friend guilty of treason and hoping to prevent further attacks by supplying that information on the very same day that I found it! Just a smidgeon of gratefulness wouldn't have gone amiss!"

Aramis' hand gently touched her wrist. "We are grateful," he said. He placed his other hand against his chest as he spoke. "But you cannot blame us for being concerned about your choosing to travel alone. Anything could have happened. But it is done now, and we shall speak no more about it." Aramis gave Athos a pointed look then, and withdrew his hand from her wrist and sat back in his chair again.

"Well then," sighed Amorette. She was vaguely aware that the hubbub of noise from the front of the tavern had decreased slightly and looking back, she found it almost empty. She was now the only woman here. "I should be on my way." Amorette placed her hat back on her head at a slight angle as she stood, slightly squashing her chignon of hair. She touched the brim of her hat lightly with an "Adieu Messieurs," and turned to leave. She had only taken a few steps when the gruff voice of Athos resounded loudly.

"Where are you staying?" He was on his feet again, wine glass discarded.

"Staying? I'm not. If I leave now I'll be home by morning-"

Before Amorette could even finish explaining herself, Athos strode past her and called over his shoulder. "You'll do no such thing. Come, we will find you rooms for the night!"

Amorette opened her mouth in retort but Aramis beat her to it. "Best to just go along with it I think; I'd hazard a guess that you won't win this argument!" He returned to his seat at the table and Amorette left them, just missing Aramis' appraisal of the attractiveness of women carrying muskets.

By the time Amorette had navigated her way to the front of the tavern again, Athos was already waiting by the door with an impatient scowl on his face. When she reached him he turned and left the tavern without a word to her and Amorette was left to follow in his wake. Her earlier walk with Aramis had felt wholly different. She had felt safe with Aramis. Now though, she wasn't entirely sure what she felt but Amorette knew that she would rather walk the streets of Paris alone even at this time of night than with Athos when he was in this seemingly permanent sully mood.

The streets were oddly quiet now. They didn't speak as they crossed into a different part of the city, Athos striding ahead and Amorette struggling to keep up. Amorette began to notice subtle differences as she half walked, half ran. The streets were growing narrower and the buildings on either side of her grew more tired and dilapidated. The windows were less clean, and weeds grew more steadily in the doorways. A lone man pushing a small cart passed them by, and Amorette looked behind her apprehensively to see where he had gone. Suddenly she collided with a hard as steel barrier which smacked into her diaphragm. Her head turned this way and that looking for danger but, looking down all that she found was a rather large muddy puddle just a few inches from where her feet were. Athos' arm had simply prevented her from soiling her heeled slippers in a muddy puddle.

When she didn't immediately react Athos slid his arm back and took her elbow in a firm grip. He pulled her gently into a new path that was free of puddles and kept walking. His fingers stayed laced around her elbow though.

"Could I trouble Madame to look where she is going at all?" he said in an incredulous mumble and Amorette wasn't entirely sure whether he had intended her to actually hear it, but she had. Amorette tried unsuccessfully to retrieve her arm from his grip as they walked but his hand held firm and she quickly gave up. She supposed that she should be glad of his hold when she considered how unsafe she felt in this rather run-down end of the city. It was also easier for Amorette and her small steps to keep up with Athos' long strides when he was half dragging her along. After a few minutes they reached a market square and as they carried on the streets were wider and less intimidating. Amorette was vaguely aware that she didn't actually know where Athos was taking her, but something within her stopped her from asking him any questions.

At length they reached what looked like wooded parkland that they glimpsed through a wrought iron gated archway. Athos spoke a few quiet words with the musketeers that stood guard and they were allowed to pass without any fuss. Before them wound a leaf strewn, open pathway that Athos wasted no time in setting off down; his grip on Amorette's elbow slightly looser. Their way was lit by wooden torches which seemed to follow the path round an upcoming bend. As the voices of the musketeers at the gate was absorbed into the foliage the only sound to be heard was that of Athos' booted feet and Amorette's heeled slippers crunching on the gravel. As they neared the bend in the pathway there suddenly came the crashing din of a horse and carriage traveling at great speed. Both Athos and Amorette had to hold onto their hats to stop them from leaving their heads as a gust of wind blew their cloaks wide open. The carriage was traveling at such speed round the bend that Amorette could not clearly see the coat of arms that was upon the door. She was almost certain now of where Athos had brought her, but she couldn't understand why.

"Athos where exactly are we?" She turned to watch him as he rounded the bend in the road a little and simply gestured for her to follow.

When Amorette reached his side he reached out his arm and pointed. "Madame Cometess De La Feuillette; the Louvre Palace."

Amorette shook her head in confusion. "Why on earth have you brought me here Athos? And less of the Madame; it makes me sound almost matronly!"

Athos started to walk the long pathway that lead to the palace and Amorette was left behind, finally noticing that he no longer held her elbow within his grasp. When he spoke his tone was monosyllabic and bored. "Forgive me for bestowing upon you what I believe to be the correct term of address. I did believe that I was paying you a compliment. You are an intelligent, well-read young woman well in control of her own finances, lands and situation. Perhaps I do not think of you as a simple pretty Mademoiselle, but I am sorry if I caused offence." Amorette did not think he sounded very sorry. "I would not know of appropriate rooms to place you in at this time of night. Your noble name grants you certain privileges in Paris. Your mother and your grandmother before her were both welcomed at court. You would be also if you would only attend. We can appeal to the maréchal des logis for lodging for one evening. As a member of the nobility, and a very wealthy one at that; I do not think he can turn you away."

Amorette did not know what to say to that and so she resolved to follow him in silence. She supposed that it was only one night's stay and she could leave in the morning before the court had awoken. As Athos approached the stone steps Amorette broke into a run to catch up with him. "I thank you Monsieur for your service to me in bringing me here, but I'm sure I can find my way from here!" Thinking perhaps she would finally be free of his imposing presence Amorette climbed the steps at a hurried pace. The outer door was open and upon entering she found a red guard moving to open the closed inner door for her. He mumbled a cordial greeting to Amorette as she passed him and found herself in an undistinguishable hallway. Before she could dwell too much on her mistake the Red Guard's rather disgruntled greeting to Athos told Amorette that he had followed her inside.

"Make your own way?" queried Athos, the smallest hint of sarcasm seeping into his tone. He had paused at her side for long enough to take in the lost blue orbs that were her eyes before continuing his journey to the other end of the passageway. He'd taken off his hat and held it in one hand and ran the other through his dark hair as he walked and yet again Amorette was forced into a hasty half-run to catch up with him. Right at the end of the corridor Athos knocked on a door and entered without being admitted. In defiance of him Amorette considered staying in the cold and dark passage or of even getting herself lost in what she was sure was a maze of passageways and rooms, but as she caught sight of a warm fire heating the room she couldn't resist following. As she entered the room she noted that it was well furnished, with many piles of neatly arranged documents stacked on a mahogany desk. Behind the desk sat a rather large man. His chin wobbled rather comically as he conversed with Athos and Amorette had to scold herself for taking amusement at his appearance. He was rather well fed it seemed. There was a half-eaten meal also on his desk and Amorette considered it a very large portion even though she had grown up with extravagant banquets and parties. Having already missed the start of the conversation between the two men Amorette failed to pick up the thread of it as she moved closer to the fire. It was only now that she realised just how cold a night it had become. Amorette didn't get to linger for very long as Athos ushered her out of the room again. She barely had time to bob into a curtsey to the man behind the desk, and she needn't have bothered as his attention was back upon his plate of food. Amorette dimly noticed that she hadn't doffed her hat and it still sat firmly upon her head. If she had been any less tired she might have hoped that the man hadn't taken offence to it, but right now it was all she could do to keep up with Athos as he half dragged her by the elbow again.

When they passed through a set of large double doors guarded by a pair of red guards, the simple grey stone of the cold and dark corridors gave way to something much more spectacular. Musketeers stood upon this side of the door and nodded greetings to them both as they passed and Athos finally slowed his step, noticing that Amorette was lagging behind. They wandered through an expansive hallway that was painted a bright shade of terracotta. The varnish that lay upon the wooden floor shone in the candlelight and Amorette had to shake herself more alert to stop her heeled shoes from slipping. Large windows all along the corridor affirmed the blackness of the night and every few metres there was a large vase of sweet smelling flowers. Turning a sharp left, Amorette followed Athos up a staircase and onto another corridor almost identical to the one before. The furnishings and décor of wooden floors instead of marble made Amorette certain that they were among the rooms delegated to the king's many courtiers. They climbed another flight of stairs and walked another corridor, and another. Amorette soon lost interest in where they were as she felt her eyelids begin to droop. When Athos finally stopped outside a door his hold on her elbow was all that prevented Amorette from walking along in a daze. As Athos retrieved a key from his pocket and unlocked the door to the room Amorette suddenly noticed the difference in her surroundings. The floor was marble, the panelled walls an ivory colour decorated with gilded gold. There were flowers here too, but they were less of a sickly sweet smell and more fresh.

Realising that Athos was already inside the room Amorette followed him inside to find him lighting candles with a taper. As the candlelight grew Amorette realised she was in a large sitting room. The plush velvet chairs of a red wine colour contrasted with the ivory and gilded gold décor that was continued from the hallway outside. Through an open door to her right there was what Amorette could just make out to be a large dining table, and to her right there was another room which she supposed must be the bed chamber. This set of rooms was very grand indeed and far more than Amorette had expected. If she attended court regularly, would this be how she would live? Would she have rooms like this? She followed Athos into the bed chamber as he continued to light candles. She took off her hat and unpinned her cloak and threw them unceremoniously into a chair in the corner of the room and turned to the large four poster bed, already counting down the seconds until she could launch her tired body into the folds of the quilt.

"Thank you for your help Monsieur, I'll turn in for the night soon. You needn't stay any longer," said Amorette as Athos lit the last two candles. She wandered back into the sitting room and was relived to find him following her.

"You'll need a fire lit," Athos jerked his head in the direction of the bed chamber, "These rooms have been empty for quite some time. You'll catch your death of cold otherwise Mademoiselle!" Amorette nodded as she tugged lightly on a rope beside her which she knew would call a servant to her should she pull a little harder. "It's quite alright; I'll fetch someone to do so when I'm ready. Goodnight Athos."

Amorette gestured to the open door which led back out into the hallway and then turned away from Athos, making her way into the bed chamber. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding when the sound of the door closing behind him reverberated around the room. Amorette was thankful for the thick drapes curtaining the windows, blocking out the dark abyss of the night. It seemed a shame to waste such a room on her when she would be gone in the morning. Amorette pulled her arms around herself as a shield to the cold and considered forgetting about the fire altogether and climbing into the bed; well aware that she would be waiting for help for some time if she tugged on the bell-rope at this time of night. A noise from behind her had Amorette spinning around on the spot with a frightened gasp escaping her lips. What she found was no less alarming to her than had she found a weapon wielding mad man there. Athos was crouched in front of the fire, attempting to light it. He hadn't really left her set of rooms after all. He had simply closed the open door and followed her into the bed chamber.

"You'll be waiting for god knows how long for someone to light this at such an hour," he mumbled without an apology for startling her. Finding that she had not the energy to argue with him, Amorette let herself drop onto the chez longue at the end of the bed with a sigh of relief. Athos turned sharply to look at her then, his penetrative eyes roving over her appearance. At once he stood to his full height and in a few strides he had lifted her cloak from where she had dropped it. Amorette strained her neck to watch him as he moved towards her and draped the cloak around her shoulders. "Let's not catch a chill shall we?" he murmured as he walked back towards the fireplace. Amorette wondered if he had felt the tense atmosphere in that moment too. Watching his shoulders rise and fall as he worked with the taper to light the barren fire, Amorette suddenly needed to fill the silence.

"Who do these rooms belong to?" she asked, not really caring for the answer.

"They belong to the Duke of Buckingham. He hasn't been at court for some time though. These rooms have been empty for over a year, hence the lack of heat." Athos sat back a little as a warm glow grew upon his face and a gentle fire now burned in the grate. "It will take a while for heat to circulate. There should be some blankets and furs here somewhere too."

Amorette had not expected Athos to go in search of the furs himself but he did. Pressing part of the wooden panelling that encased the walls of the bedroom, Athos then disappeared into what appeared to be a linen closet. Amorette left him to search for the items herself, knowing that a small closet was the last place she wanted to be confined with the man. This overly large bedroom was already made claustrophobic by his presence. Hearing him shuffling about, Amorette got up and wandered a little closer, curious to see just how far back the closet went. She was so concentrated on the musketeer and his somewhat reluctant assistance that Amorette did not notice the door which led back into the parlour swing silently open a little further. She was unaware of the woman's presence behind her until she spoke.

"Well well, look what the cat dragged in." For a moment there was unhindered silence in the room. Amorette wanted nothing more than to be in that confined, claustrophobic closet with or without Athos now. The use of her legs seemed to have evaded her and she stayed frozen, staring at the dark entrance to the closet, but she did not need sight as proof of identity. When the woman had spoken her voice had been enough. Amorette felt the woman advance towards her at great speed and clutch a handful of the back of her skirts in her hand. "And in her country garb too, how quaint. Perhaps if you'd come to Paris in these clothes a little earlier they might still have been in fashion, maybe three or four years earlier?"

The insult had Amorette turning on her heel to meet a snarling Milady De Winter. She backed up, her hands flailing wildly behind her for the post of the bed. Finding it, Amorette clung to it in the hope that the mahogany would swallow her up. Dressed in a pink silk and taffeta gown, with her dark hair falling in ringlets from where it was pinned at the nape of her neck, Ann looked almost virginal. She let out a girlish chuckle as she observed Amorette and it made the vision almost complete. If it hadn't been for the hateful eyes and distrustful smirk upon her face Amorette might have thought her sister greatly changed.

"The lost little duckling, come to Paris court at last? Your father would be proud!" Ann's voice seemed light and amiable but Amorette could hear the malice within it.

"Stop it!" Amorette cried, noticing that the shuffling sounds that had come from within the closet had stopped altogether.

"Why are you here, might I ask?" Ann moved towards the chez longue, running her hands along the velvet material as she spoke. "Does _he_ know you're here? Is that why you came? I can't really see any other reason why you would think to pollute us with your presence!"

Amorette stammered for a few seconds, not accustomed to this sort of mocking conversation. "You…I…It doesn't matter why I'm here! It's absolutely none of your business."

"Oh I think you'll find it is my business! I am in favour now!" Ann advanced towards Amorette again, thrusting out the skirts of her dress as a show of the decadence that was now available to her. "I am always in favour! You are no longer of relevance! Did you ever really think that he would choose you over me? You deluded little wench!" Ann looked her up and down scathingly, her eyes drawn to Amorette's waist. "You were too fat all those years ago to have caught his eye, and now you are far too thin! Athos never liked his women sickly. The chubby little girl and her babysitter Comte? You're still holding out hope aren't you? You may have been in favour before he met me, but I have the king's favour now, and that of Athos'. Whatever business you have at the king's court is therefore mine also! Perhaps your father might be able to bring the answers to the surface! Should I tell him that you are here?"

Amorette pushed herself away from the bed post then, feeling her anger begin to bubble in the depths of her stomach. "You wouldn't dare!" she snarled.

Ann continued to smirk, pleased that she had hit a nerve. "Perhaps I should tell him the whereabouts of that little hideaway in Provins where you skulk! Your mother's little hideaway can't stay a secret forever you know! Why not get the big reveal over with sooner rather than later. Who better to do it than me, eh?"

In a split second Amorette's anger boiled over and she launched herself at her half-sister, ready to strike. Only a strong seizing of her upper arm pulled her back at the last instant. She fell back into Athos' hard chest and his vice like grip immediately told her that it was pointless to fight him.

When he spoke though, she was convinced that if she had struck Ann, he might just have applauded her. His tone was so full of disdain and hatred that Amorette thought she could almost feel the contempt for his estranged wife vibrating throughout the room. "You cannot really think to threaten her with that now can you? Lord Percy's return to French soil would be just as much of an inconvenience to you as it would to Mademoiselle Amorette. The bell will toll soon. Milady De Winter in this part of the palace this late at night? Hadn't you better scurry off before you are seen?" Amorette could sense the raising of Athos' eyebrows. In a rustle of expensive cloth Ann was gone as quickly as she had appeared.

For a few seconds there was only the sound of their deep breathing as they tried to dispel their anger. Amorette turned to look at him, ready for another outburst, but she hesitated. In his eyes there burned a fire so fierce it could inhabit every fireplace in the palace. He was still staring at the doorway where Ann had stood only moments before. It was as if he had forgotten that Amorette was even there; _not for the first time_.

"Why didn't you tell me she was here?" Amorette prodded his chest to emphasize every word she spoke. "I can't stay here now!" With a flinch he was back in the room but Amorette had already shaken off his hand and moved to take her hat from the chair.

"Don't be rash. Why do you think I placed you in these rooms?" Despite his disinterested turn of speech Amorette still turned to him, captivated by his presence. She shook her head, not understanding his meaning. He sighed heavily in exasperation as he gestured to the linen closet from which he had emerged a few moments before. "I told you that these are the Duke of Buckingham's rooms. That is not just a linen closet. There is another door on the other side of it. When said door is unlocked it leads directly to the Queen's own bedchambers." When Amorette still looked at him blankly Athos tilted his head to the side slightly, his eyes flicking backwards and forwards to the four-poster bed that dominated the room. As the pieces fell into place Amorette's mouth fell into a silent soft O shape.

"Oh…right. The… Buckingham and the queen?" she stuttered. "Really?" Athos nodded. "You mean everyone knows?"  
"How refreshing it is to meet a lady not preoccupied with the intrigues of French court. Yes, the duke of Buckingham and the Queen were lovers at a time. All of court knows the sordid details as does the king, but there is little evidence to provide any circumstantial proof." Sarcasm dripped from Athos' every word and Amorette was puzzled.

"Sorry Athos but; interesting as that titbit of information is, what relevance does it have to our current situation?" Amorette tried to move past Athos as she brought her hat towards her head but he shot out an arm for the second time that night and prevented her movement.

Athos seemed exasperated again. "The king and Queen are currently entertaining guests at court. It's almost midnight however and they will soon retire to bed if they have not already done so. A bell will toll shortly afterwards to mark the beginning of the night watch. Once that sound is heard this corridor will be swarming with red guards and musketeers alike. No one shall be permitted entry to these upper floors. These are among some of the safest rooms in in all of Paris. She will not be permitted entry here, and even if she were it would be a great risk for her to be seen here."

Realising just what Athos meant, Amorette stopped pushing against his outstretched arm and her shoulders slumped as she relaxed in the confines of the Duke's rooms.

"Milady De Winter is currently in favour with the king, great favour in fact. She is his mistress, and as such she is not in favour with the Queen. She is not permitted to be so close to the Queen's own apartments. The Queen has issued orders that Milady De Winter should never be within her line of sight. Should she stray towards these rooms rumours may also circulate that perhaps she plans to slip a little something into the evening glass of sherry that the Queen always has as she readies for bed. You will be as safe as the Queen herself tonight."

Amorette felt warmth grow inside her as she realised there was a hint of concern shining through Athos' façade. He would not have taken such a care for her safety if he was not concerned for her. Perhaps it was only friendly concern, for old time's sake but Amorette would take what she could. She nodded at him as he watched her expectantly, finding that her voice was lost somewhere within her chest.

He stepped away from her then and Amorette felt that she could breathe again. "Will you leave at first light?" he questioned.

"N…No. After what has occurred tonight; if my sister really is in such great favour then I shall need to postpone my leaving until a little later in the day. There are a few home truths that must be whispered into the right ears." Amorette took her cloak off again and threw it onto the bed with her hat.

"I'll have business elsewhere tomorrow," said Athos. "If I have news of your friend might a messenger find you here?"

Amorette remembered her transport that brought her to Paris. "I'll have to come by the garrison anyway. My horse is stabled there."

Athos nodded. "Very well. Come by at noon. We have the morning to carry out our investigation. If we find your friend to be as innocent as you believe her to be then we will release her into your charge and let her leave with you tomorrow."

Amorette simply nodded her thanks and understanding and Athos bid her a goodnight. Just as he placed his hand upon the door knob to close it and leave her alone in the room, a sudden thought occurred to Amorette.

"Athos was I really that fat?" she asked, aware of her incredulous tone.

He turned to her quickly, unable to hide the smirk that pulled at his lips. Despite his mocking expression Amorette was fully aware of the honest intensity of his gaze. "No." It was all the answer he gave and with a touch to the brim of his hat he was gone. His answer reverberated in her ears for a few seconds and she knew he had given her his honest opinion.

 _ **There's no happy ending on the horizon for Athos and Amorette just yet. He is married to her sister after all. I've a clear path that Amorette is heading in, and it might not be a happy one :/ But that's life!**_

 _ **There's a clue hidden here in this chapter for later on in Amorette's story, didn't realise it was going to be there until I'd written it!**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**There was a clue for later chapters hidden within the last, so bare that in mind!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

The opulence and grandeur of the Louvre palace was lost on Amorette Du Guillory. Despite having never stayed there before and knowing that she should rightly have been in awe of the whole wondrous city pf Paris, her heart was not in it. As she lay in bed early the next morning, her stomach was in knots. Seeing her half-sister after such a long time was somewhat bitter-sweet. After everything that Ann had put her through Amorette couldn't help but feel that their reunion was only going to bring about more turmoil. To have Athos there in that moment had also been strange. If he hadn't prevented her from attacking Ann, Amorette was certain the two women would have fought like cat and dog on the floor. Though dresses may have been torn and hair pulled Amorette could not really believe that Ann would have seriously intended to harm her though. After all, they were half-sisters and Amorette would one day inherit the large fortune that her father had amassed if she managed to outlive him. Their mother had been unable to provide for her bastard child in her will due to her consummated marriage, but she had managed to find a loop-hole in that when Lord Percy did die; Amorette could pass on an inheritance to her half-sister.

She felt Athos' pain now just as keenly as she had the night before. How horrific it must have been to have both women in the same room; to be thrust back into their family's squabbles when Amorette was sure that he wanted nothing more than to be as far from Ann as possible. For a while Amorette had known of her sister's botched execution and had heard rumours of her seductive romps in England with countless noblemen, leading her to take Lord De Winter's name as her own after she fled his younger brother's bed. This information had been drip fed though, and Amorette had known that there would be far much more to each and every story that she was told, but she had not expected to find her in Paris of all places, so close to where everything had gone wrong for her.

There was something within Amorette though that was glad to see her sister alive and well. There was a ferocity to her sister that could not be denied by anyone and Amorette admired that in her. She had always applauded strong women and Ann was no exception. Their own mother had been weak, baring a child out of wedlock and falling from one dangerous affair to another before eventually meeting and marrying the infamous Lord Percy Barclay. Amorette's uncle had not approved of the match and had strongly advised against it, but to no avail. The marriage went ahead and the Cometess De La Feuillette endured a terrible and frightening union before her untimely death. Their mother had been weak, hoping from man to man in the hope of finding someone to love her. The Cometess would have gone to any lengths just to feel a little love from Lord Percy and had done so on numerous occasions. Amorette remembered it all very well and had suffered for it. Her mother had not been strong enough to do the right thing and walk away from a man who was violent and cruel to his only daughter. Ann was in complete confliction to the Cometess. Everything that she did was for money and power and Amorette would never condone her methods or behaviour, but she could not see her sister as weak. Living in a wholly man's world Ann had carved a name and a life for herself by usurping the money and position of others.

Amorette supposed that she did somewhat share her sister's tenacity but in a radically different form. Her mother desired love and her sister wealth and favour; Amorette believed herself to be somewhere between the two. Amorette had seen how the jangling of large amounts of gold in the pockets of her father and sister had been their own corruption, and she knew first hand that love wasn't necessarily enough to redeem a person no matter how much of it they had to give. Amorette was never 'in favour' as her sister had so aptly put it, and technically she was also never out of it. She sat somewhere resolutely between the two and saw it as a blessing. Every member of the nobility knew someone who had been in favour one week, and the next they met a grisly end with the help of the executioners block or what would come to be known as le guillotine. Even though she was not a regular at court Amorette was well aware how quickly favour could shift and diminish. She was not without connections though. Her name was well known and influential and Amorette continued to uphold alliances with French and English politicians and nobility alike. Such allegiances were acquired because of her reputation as a good person and enabled her to be extremely well informed where others thought her unwitting.

Amorette led a comfortable life, and did not see the need to throw money at opportunities and material objects because there was no one in her life to admire them. She had enough love to put the money she did have to good use and had funded the opening of the school house in a nearby town and continued to support them. She hoped to engage in more projects like it in future but would always remain an anonymous benefactor. Amorette was sure of her judgment and knew that if her generosity were widely known it would be misused so she made her own decisions about just who her money helped.

Everyone had wicked thoughts from time to time. Everyone had things they wanted to buy, alliances that they thought valuable or people who they wished to share their life with, but Amorette didn't act on them. In her eyes it made her a better person.

It was still early when she emerged from her one-night lodgings and made her way towards the presence chamber to meet with the King and Queen. Their meeting was to be a private one and Amorette would waste no time in divulging all of her sister's secrets. If for nothing else than the assurance that her sister could not entangle herself in anyone else's affairs Amorette thought it was something she had to do. Part of her thought that she did it to help Athos be rid of his wife who he loved and hated so much in equal measure. She also thought that she did it for the king, because Amorette was sure that Milady De Winter was more than capable of bringing the house of Bourbon to its knees. She also did it for herself. She did not wish to have her name and good intentions sullied by her sister.

For her own reasons Amorette knew she could strike up a rapport with the queen very well, it was the king's opinion she really needed to sway to diminish the favour that her sister so craved. Their meeting was a long one. The king was immature, almost childlike. In effect he was still very young, but the Louvre Palace and Paris were his home and the people that surrounded him were trusted advisors. He showed every confidence that was to be expected in a king. He believed of course, that his birth right was to rule by divine right. Such was the catholic way. It was a far cry from English monarchies of recent times. Their protestant monarchs seemed to have more of an understanding of just how unstable a reign was. The favour of the people was just as fickle as the favour of a king. Amorette liked Anne of Austria immediately though. Despite being the anointed queen of France there was a fragility in the way she held herself and spoke. This was not her home, and she had come to a palace full of strangers when she first arrived in Paris. She was strong though, as Amorette was fully aware that the king had grown to value her opinion highly and held his wife in great esteem despite his knowledge of her affair. Amorette had a feeling she would warm to her Queen when Athos had told her of the apparent affair with the Duke of Buckingham. Here was a woman married to a man she did not love, in a country that she did not know or trust and she had taken her own happiness into her hands. As Queen she had that right and could get away with it as long as no substantial evidence was found. But in front of Amorette sat a demure, pleasant young woman who listened to her claims with interest and respect and once the matter of Milady De Winter was concluded; continued conversation as if they were firm friends. She seemed to seek Amorette's approval, strangely. Anne of Austria knew about favour. She may be queen but she too was just another subject to an anointed king. Everyone knew the story of Henry VIII of England and his six wives, and it seemed this queen knew the fear of divorce or beheading.

The King and Queen expressed their regrets that Amorette would not attend court, and though Amorette promised the Queen that she would visit she knew it very unlikely that she ever would. Leaving Paris would be the biggest relief she had ever experienced, and it would be made even better if Claire Du Leroux was no longer under suspicion and allowed to leave with her.

It was a little before midday when Amorette arrived at the musketeer garrison. She had not wanted to arrive early but had not wished to remain in the palace any longer. The evening beforehand when she had walked through the same archway Amorette had been greeted by the site of a bustling hive of activity with what she suspected was the musketeers handing the day duties over to the night watch. Today though it was deserted save six souls. Atop a flight of stairs there stood a rather stoic faced man looking out from a balcony. At the foot of the stairs five others sat around a long table. Athos, Porthos, D'artagnan and Aramis stood up to greet her, whilst Claire Du Leroux remained seated. Her friend looked lost and bewildered amongst all these men and Amorette grew worried that perhaps Claire would not be allowed to leave with her after all. Before she could ask after her though, Athos nodded his head in the direction of a small alcove below the flight of steps. As Amorette followed him towards it she noted that the other three musketeers fanned out a little towards where they stood, leaving Claire unmoving at the table. Amorette knew that they intended to listen to their conversation but she had expected as much. The four men seemed to move and talk with such synchronicity that someone might have guessed them to be brothers.

"You met with the king?" Athos' cold tone was present, but Amorette could sense some apprehension there.

"Don't worry, I didn't mention any names. I avoided voicing any names or connections that might cause trouble for others." Athos visibly relaxed at her words and Amorette was shocked at how like the teenage boy he became in that moment. It crossed her mind then that all that tension was present last night too. Did he really walk around with so much frustration and angst inside of him? "She's gone Athos. The King and Queen informed me that Ann left Paris last night. It seems my intentions this morning were expected. She fled with enough gold lining her pockets to make the crossing to England or passage to Spain many times over. She's gone and if she ever comes back she will certainly not be in favour!" Amorette smiled as she spoke, but Athos' face was unreadable. Of course he would be disappointed that she'd gone. No matter what Ann did and how much Athos hated her for it, he could never shake his love for her.

"At least now she cannot antagonise you," Amorette sighed, sure that he would resent her for speaking out against her sister. What else could she have done though, when Ann was hurting him just by her presence at court? She changed the subject then, suddenly more eager to put distance between them again. "And what of Claire? Have you made a decision yet?"

He seemed to engage in their conversation a little more as he moved a bit closer. "We believe that we have found your friend to be as innocent as you claimed her to be. She openly told us herself, rather ashamedly that she cannot read or write. I was surprised that she admitted to what would be seen to some as a rather large failing in a noblewoman, but she did."

Amorette was not surprised when Porthos peered around the corner of the alcove then. He took his hat off as he spoke. "If I were you Mademoiselle I would get your friend on the road to wherever it is she's going as quickly as you can. Our captain's reluctantly agreed to your scheme but he's not best pleased with it. You should hurry in case he changes his mind!" She followed Porthos' gaze to where the man stood on the balcony. He had his back turned to them now. Amorette nodded her thanks and looked towards the stables where she knew her horse to be tethered. Aramis was walking towards them leading her horse and another. She moved to thank him but Athos stopped her.

"Just one more thing Mademoiselle? Your friend's mistress that you saw, I know you said you didn't speak with her directly but is there anything you recall about her? Perhaps something Emile might have mentioned in passing?"

Amorette began to shake her head, but something in her expression must have given her away. Athos quirked an eyebrow at her and she was left feeling utterly scrutinised as she stood before his sapphire gaze.

"Well… that is…I… you think that the mistress I saw may be his accomplice in those attacks?" Athos nodded briefly. "I'm…not entirely sure that there is only one mistress to speak of. I know that Emile is my friend but he has been rather promiscuous in the past. I did not know… well that is I did have my suspicions, but Claire herself told me of it. It greatly upset her as you can imagine."

Athos was looking at her shrewdly and Amorette thought she could almost see the connection forming in his mind. "And were you…" he shifted from foot to foot slightly awkwardly. "Forgive me but are you one of the mistresses that you speak of?"

Amorette had expected the question, but it still angered her a little to think that Athos thought she would become a mistress to a man like Emile Du Leroux. Amorette simply shook her head and then looked down at her feet, unsure about just how much to tell Athos.

"Then forgive me but what are your suspicions based on? Amorette?" Athos ducked his head a little to try to reach her eye line and Amorette resolved to tell him the truth.

"When he stayed with me a few weeks ago," she muttered to the floor, "there was an incident where he approached me with the intention of making our relationship a more intimate one." Amorette squirmed where she stood, sensing the eyes of the other three men upon her. "I refused him. He left the next day."

A gentle hand upon her elbow prevented her from turning away from Athos. He pulled her closer to him and she was forced to look up into his eyes. They looked anything but gentle. In fact it seemed as if there was a storm brewing there. Amorette could feel the heat radiating from him as she watched a conflict break out upon his face.

"Did he try to force himself upon you?" Amorette had not expected that question. For a few seconds she hesitated and Athos seemed to take that as an affirmative. She watched his nostrils flare and his grip on her arm tightened a little. If not for the direness of the situation Amorette might have taken a moment to enjoy the concerned expression he harboured as his hand gently moved closer to her wrist.

"No! He didn't touch me!" Amorette blurted out quickly and smiled reassuringly at Athos in the hope that he would believe her. "He made a pass at me and I refused him. He went to his own bed that night with his tail between his legs. He didn't touch me."

"Good." Athos visibly relaxed again and released her wrist from his grip and grasped her shoulder gently. A twinge of pain there reminded Amorette of an old childhood injury that had never completely healed. Thinking their conversation had reached its conclusion, Amorette attempted to step back a little but the weight of Athos' hand on her shoulder kept her in place. "You would tell me though," he almost whispered, "If something of that nature had occurred? You would come to me for help?" Amorette remained silent, not knowing how to reply. Athos tilted his head to the side as he observed her and she was sure that her old friend could see right through her. Amorette forced herself to stay focused on his face and not let one memory in particular rise to the surface. She pushed it down and swallowed deeply. "You do feel that you can confide in me don't you? That you could trust me with something like that?"

Athos gave her shoulder another squeeze then and Amorette quickly nodded, trying desperately to find her voice again. "Yes… yes of course," she gasped out. Athos released her shoulder and nodded but Amorette knew that she hadn't entirely convinced him. "Porthos is right, Athos. Claire and I need to take our leave. Thank you for helping her! She shall be saved from a horrible torment of having to remain at court whilst her husband goes to trial so … thank you." For a moment the two friends stood looking at each other and Amorette knew that what they would both say within the next few seconds would feel so wholly underwhelming and inadequate, but there wasn't really any other way to part.

Amorette took a deep breath and spoke first so as not to prolong the uncomfortable atmosphere that had just settled between them. "I suppose that my coming to Paris has at least enabled us to part on happier terms. I won't apologise for what was said yesterday for it was what I felt, but I'm glad we have a chance to part amicably. I don't suppose we shall see each other again for a long time, perhaps never. So…"

Amorette shuffled awkwardly as Athos muttered a "So…"

They both shared a light chuckle. "Goodbye Athos." Amorette found suddenly that she couldn't bear to hear his goodbye and turned on her heal and made for her horse. Claire was already seated upon hers and ready to leave. Amorette checked the horse's bridle and saddle to find that everything was already firmly in place. Placing one foot upon a stirrup she attempted to launch herself up into the saddle. She gasped as strong hands circled her waist and hoisted her atop the horse. Looking down quickly she found Athos staring up at her. One hand stayed at her waist but his other hand took the reins and presented them to her. When she took them in her hand their fingers touched. Athos did not withdraw his hand though.

"Be careful on the road," he said sincerely. It's probably best that you don't stop along the way."

"Oh Athos don't fuss. I know the way well enough, even in darkness." Amorette adjusted her hat which had slipped slightly as he'd helped her onto the horse and slid the reins out of his grip. All at once he was standing quite a way away from her and Amorette was all too aware of the absence of his warm touch at her waist. She turned to Claire who meekly nodded her readiness to her and Amorette looked to Athos' three friends who stood side by side. They all touched the brims of their hats to her and uttered goodbyes. She did the same as she spared the balcony a quick glance, but the musketeer captain was no longer within her sight. She dug her knees into her horse and by the time she had reached the arched entrance they had broken into a gallop. With Claire behind her they were gone in a flurry of dust.

The two women only slowed their pace of travel when they reached the outskirts of Paris and reached Provins just as the sun began to set. Elise was just finishing up for the day when Amorette and Claire arrived. Before she left for the day she drew a bath for Claire. As she bathed in the next room, Amorette went through her own things and picked out some clothes for Claire to wear and then retreated downstairs to give her friend some space. Claire had been ever so quiet on their journey back and hadn't spoken a word since she'd entered the house. Amorette supposed that the poor woman must have been traumatised. Her husband would most likely face a trial and she had no doubt that he there would be a charge of treason. In the parlour she found Claire's cloak thrown unceremoniously over the back of a chair. Lifting the cloak to place it somewhere for safe keeping; Amorette's hand slid over a lump in the cloth as she folded it. Finding just a folded letter Amorette almost let it be, but the slight scent of perfume that seemed to derive from it made her hesitate. Amorette thought it odd that Claire would have received a letter from her husband that smelt of perfume. The marriage hadn't lately been a happy one and why would a man give his wife a letter laced with a lady's perfume. Better still why would a man who knew that his wife could not read or write give her a letter at all?

Was the letter in fact something that Emile had himself received from one of his mistresses? Standing in the doorway to the parlour clutching the folded cloak, Amorette was unsure of just what to do. If this was a letter from Emile's mistress she could understand why Claire had kept it. Unable to read just what the letter said, but to still be aware that it was from someone that her own husband favoured above his wife? That would be a hard thing to stomach indeed. Perhaps Claire had taken the letter in the hopes of finding the right person to read it to her. She might even have kept it as insurance so that she had a good argument when the accusations started to come her way. Amorette knew that they surely would. A wife was her husband's property after all. Perhaps people would think that Claire was a part of the Huguenot scheme, even if she was just doing her husband's bidding. Amorette was torn. She fingered the corner of the letter as she weighed up just what was more important to her in that moment. If this was really from a mistress of Emile's then surely Amorette should open the letter to see if there was any information that she could pass on to Athos, but on the other hand she had the feelings of her friend to consider. Perhaps she could tell Claire that the letter fell from its hiding place when she lifted the cloak. Removing the letter from the folds of the cloak Amorette turned it over in her hands and the decision was made for her.

The seal was broken so Amorette saw no harm in having a quick glance at it. It was addressed to a Michael and the first few lines of the letter were nothing of consequence, but the last few lines were what threw Amorette.

'… _and when I am free of my good husband we shall make for England together. We shall hide no longer and live in the knowledge that we may continue to further the Huguenot cause. The wheels are in motion my love, and soon I shall be free to be yours. I shall speak no further of what we have arranged here but rest assured that everything will go to plan, I will ensure it. Until then,_

 _Your fleur rebelle.'_

Amorette's hands shook slightly as she folded the letter and stuffed it back into the cloak. She threw it back onto the chair and nearly broke into a run in her haste to reach the kitchen. She shut the door behind her and leaned against it breathing deeply. Amorette had an inkling as to the writer of that letter, and looking to the celling she had no idea how to handle this situation. Was the letter in fact written by Claire for her own lover? Whoever had written that letter, they had also written the list she had found the day before. The same handwriting graced both sheets of paper. She had been made aware of Emile's promiscuity by his wife but had never really considered the thought that Claire might just be as bad as him. Amorette felt wounded that she had been fooled by such a woman. Claire had made herself the victim in all of this, but then Claire had said so many things. Amorette had known that Claire could not read or write, but that was only on the basis of what Claire herself had told her. Believing this turn of events was difficult and it occurred to Amorette that she should test her theory. If she was proved right then she would stay quiet about what she knew. She would feign an illness the next morning and postpone their travel. Then she would have Elise get word to Paris and Athos about what she had discovered. The next few days were going to be trying if she really was catering for a spy and a murderer but there was not a thing she could think of to prevent having to do so.

Shaking herself, Amorette dived towards the stove and began to prepare the evening meal. No matter the turmoil inside her head, she could not give herself way. Instead she would go about her normal routine as if she were none the wiser. If she ran now, Claire would run too and then she would never be apprehended and her most likely innocent husband would still face an uncertain fate.

A while later she heard Claire emerging from the upstairs room. She called out to her from the kitchen and a moment later Claire joined Amorette by the stove.

"How are you feeling now?" probed Amorette.

"A little better, thanks." Amorette watched her friend as she took a seat at the table and observed that she did not seem very distressed at all. "I still cannot believe my husband Emile to be the conspirator in this terrible scheme that your musketeer friends told me of. I thought Emile was helping that cause. Then I suppose he did keep many things from me, his mistresses for one. I don't think I'll ever truly know how many of them there where."

Amorette decided to take the opportunity to steer the conversation in a direction where she might get some answers. "Claire was there anything that you kept from your husband? It's just that I wondered about you not being able to read and write. Being married to a nobleman might have proved difficult without those skills. Did Emile know?"

She turned to Claire then and was shocked to find that her friend thought the answer a perfectly innocent one.

"Yes…" she sighed. "Emile did know. I suppose he didn't really care. I was more of a trophy wife to him. He didn't care that my upbringing was poor or that I had no connections. I was a thing of beauty for him to show off. Perhaps he did love me when we first met, but by the time we had been married a year Emile had tired of me. Probably for the reason that I cannot give him whatever it is that his mistresses can."

Amorette wondered vaguely how many times Claire had fed people this sob story in pursuit of sympathy as she turned back to the stove and carried on with the simple broth that she was putting together. She suspected very much that Emile thought that his wife couldn't read or write simply because just like Amorette, that was what Claire had told him.

"Oh how rude of me!" simpered Claire. "Let me help with something?"

She was at the stove with her again and it was all Amorette could do not to step back from the woman. Instead she shook her head and was about to ask Claire to sit again when an idea came to her. "I'm on top of everything here. Did you cook much yourself for your husband?"

"No. God no. I've never cooked a thing in my life. How all of you women do it I'll never know. I couldn't tell one ingredient from the other if I'm honest. I suppose I'm rather a let-down to my sex really." Claire chuckled a little and lifted some parsley to smell it. "This smells divine." She said. "But I Couldn't tell you what it's called, what it's for or what it would complement!"

"Well I'm almost done but could you fetch me some thyme from the larder?" Amorette nodded towards the larder on the other side of the room and Claire was gone from her side. When she heard the door creek open Amorette called out to Claire. "Oh and some rosemary and some garlic if you can find it!"

The jars in Amorette's larder were opaque and for someone who could not read the task would require them to open the jars to ascertain their contents. But Claire returned with the ingredients far too quickly for that. The lids of the jars were labelled and Amorette knew she had simply read them. As she took one of them from Claire's outstretched hand she made a show of almost dropping it.

"My goodness how horrible of me! I shouldn't have sent you to fetch these! There's us just talking about you not being able to read and I'm sending you off to fetch some labelled jars!" Amorette slapped her forehead as she spoke in a show of forgetfulness.

"Oh never worry!" Claire waved her false apology away with her hand "I can decipher a few words such as cooking ingredients!"

Amorette didn't buy the lie.

Sitting in the dining room a while later, Amorette ate in silence while Claire prattled on. If Amorette hadn't been sure of her guilt earlier, then she certainly was now. The woman sitting across from her spoke of the future and of life with such fondness and zest that no one would have believed she had found out that her husband was being investigated as a traitor to the crown.

Amorette regretted bringing her here terribly. She couldn't be in the same room with Claire for much longer without having an outburst and things finally came to a head when Amorette began to clear the plates. She placed them on the side and turned to gaze at her friend, her blood boiling as she thought of Emile locked away perhaps in the bastille now with a charge of treason hanging over his head. She had had enough.

I think I'll away to Naples to see my cousin Bruno for Christmas? What do you think?" Claire continued to simper at Amorette over the rim of her glass of wine. "You should come with me! Oh yes what a plan that would be. You and my cousin would make quite the perfect match! And who knows, I might even find myself another husband!"

"Did you think Claire that I would not figure it out eventually?" Claire was aghast, staring at Amorette as if she had sprouted another head from her neck. "Come now, don't play the fool. Was it Emile's idea? Were you forced to go along with it? Or was it the scheming of your lover Michael? Or even your own?"

For a few seconds there was silence. Amorette couldn't read Claire's face and for a moment she thought perhaps the woman would deny it. But then a wide grin broke across Claire's face.

"What a clever little mademoiselle you are!" she simpered. Claire began to stalk towards Amorette around the table. "I thought it would take a while longer for you to discover the truth. How exactly did you come to your realisation?"

Amorette was circling the table now towards the door, her hand skirting along the top of the table as she went. "I found your letter to your lover! I know that list I found upstairs was written by you! Emile had nothing to do with those attacks did he? It was all you! Why? What reason would you have for involving yourself in this? Attacking those men wouldn't benefit you in any way that I know of?"

There was now only a few feet between the two women as Claire still pursued Amorette around the room. "Michael and I can start a new life together in England once we have completed what we have started. The amount of gold we have been promised in return for our deeds would be too much for anyone to turn down!"

Backing up against the door, Amorette slid her hand behind her back and grabbed the handle. It wouldn't budge. It was almost as if someone was holding it from the other side. "M…I don't… Money?" she stammered. Claire was bearing down on her now from the side. "Money? Claire I have more money than I know what to do with! You could have come to me, I would have helped! I have more than enough money for goodness sake!"

At that moment the door behind her was thrown open and the force of it launched Amorette into the dining table. Hurriedly she tried to recall hearing the sound of someone else entering the house but before she could give it much thought a heavy blunt object collided with the side of her head. Amorette clutched the back of a chair for support as everything swam in and out of focus. A figure came into view that was far taller than Claire but she couldn't see his face clearly. On her other side she thought she could make out Claire. Despite her muddled thoughts Amorette registered that with them either side of her the doorway was now clear. There was silence for a few seconds and the only sound was the heavy breathing of each person in the room. Amorette was aware that she wouldn't get very far as a hot sticky substance ran down the side of her face from the cut on her head. Taking them by surprise she quickly spun around and made for the door. Instead of trying to escape out into the gardens though, Amorette made for the parlour. She knew that she had to find a way to leave some sort of answer to be found. Amorette also knew that she wouldn't make it to the hidden set of pistols and she was right. Just inside the parlour a hand clamped down over her mouth as another grabbed her waist. Amorette yelped and screamed as best she could as she felt the man dragging her backwards. She tried to drag her heeled shoes in the hope that they would catch on something and propel her forwards out of his arms. They thrashed about the room as Amorette tried to put up a fight and furniture moved. Amorette was sure she heard metal buttons or pins on his clothing scrape against the wall. With one hand she dragged Claire's cloak to the floor and kicked out with her feet, knocking over a chair. The man remained silent and all that Amorette could hear was his deep breathing as he tried to keep her under control. He dragged her to the other side of the room where there was less furniture and Amorette couldn't see anything within her reach but after a few seconds struggling seemed futile when she felt weaker by the second.

Looking down, Amorette caught sight of the man's ring on his finger. On impulse Amorette bit down and in almost the same second she pulled the ring from his finger. He let go of her as he gave out an almighty yelp and Amorette fell in a rather odd, almost forced way against a side table, knocking over an old vase that was a wedding present to her mother. Amorette dropped to her knees beside the fallen vase which now resembled shards of porcelain. It was all Amorette could do to bring her eyes into focus enough to drop the ring within the shards, thus disguising them. The man still yelped in pain behind her and Claire shouted orders from the doorway. Everything within Amorette's sight began to twist and turn as she felt the floor come up to greet her and within seconds her heavy eyelids had closed.

 _ **Personally I don't think that Amorette has choosen well friend-wise; apart from Athos that is!**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Almost a 'Musketeer only' chapter.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

The Bastille Saint-Antoine was not typically where a peer of the realm and one-time close companion to the king would expect to find himself after an abrupt arrest. Emile Du Leroux had grown up at court and had been a play-mate of the king as a child. He had always been well trusted by the king and was not surprised when he was chosen to be part of an elite team investigating Huguenot activity abroad. What had shocked him though, was the raid of his court apartments. Despite no evidence being found Emile had been arrested and brought to the Bastille. Thoughts of conspiracy were rife in his mind and had been since he had been brought here by a troupe of red guards. He did not know the fate of his wife but somewhere in his mind he was sure that a woman would not be brought to the notorious prison that had been his home since the day before. When he was first arrested the evidence had been presented by a quartet of musketeers and their captain but since his arrival at the Bastille, any interrogations had been carried out by men who were in pay of the current cardinal and even some of his peers. Emile had denied all knowledge of what he had been told was a plot to cause harm to his friends that were part of the Huguenot investigations and had repeatedly questioned the existence of the evidence that had somehow incriminated him.

Athos, Aramis, Porthos and D'artagnan had only one choice left to them and that was to present the evidence that Amorette had given them to Captain Treville who then brought the news to the King. They had been permitted to make the arrest and to remain in possession of the incriminating evidence but everything else so far had been taken out of their hands. The king had ordered that Emile Du Leroux be placed in the Bastille and wanted it known that he took the assault on his advisors as an assault on his own self. The Du Leroux's rooms had been ransacked and searched, with most of Emile's paperwork taken as evidence. His wife Claire though, had been completely overlooked. Her name had not been mentioned in the orders that the king issued and it appeared that no one suspected the capability of the woman. The five men of the musketeer regiment were not so dismissing of her regardless of Athos' trust in Amorette's judgement. They were permitted to question her and all four men almost immediately knew that they could eliminate her from their enquiries. Claire had rather ashamedly admitted that she could not read or write and appeared completely ignorant of the real reason for the Huguenot investigations. Aramis; more in touch with feminine sensibilities had later disclosed to his friends that he found Claire rather downtrodden and defeated perhaps by her loveless marriage. Porthos had agreed, throwing out the suggestion that the woman had seemed rather dense and unimaginative. Athos and D'artagnan though had agreed with a silent look to each other that they thought to give Claire a little more credit. They both suspected that whilst the woman was innocent she could be at no loss as to the seriousness of the situation. The best option for her was to distance herself from her husband and in so doing absolve herself of any suspicion. If her husband was found innocent or he was acquitted, then she could find the time to reconcile later.

Thus a day ago, Claire Du Leroux had been placed into the care of Amorette Du Guillory. Both women had left Paris at haste and the four musketeers had made their way to the Bastille. They were promised an audience with Emile where they could present their evidence to the accused. That had not happened though, and late in the evening Captain Treville made the decision to send them back to the garrison with the promise that they would get their chance to interrogate the prisoner on their return the next morning.

It was raining the next morning as the musketeers re-traced their steps from the day before towards the Bastille. They were well aware that Captain Treville had risen himself far earlier than they had and was already securing their time with Emile.

When they arrived they were ushered towards the upper floors and into one of the better rooms of the prison. Emile Du Leroux sat at a well varnished table, still in his clothes that he had worn the previous day. He would be warm though in his fine clothes, noted Athos. There was also a warm fire steadily burning and a decent bed. The room still resembled a prison, with bars on the windows and strong locks on the door but this was what money could buy you in prison. Athos almost smiled wryly as he saw D'artagnan observing just how well a suspected traitor was being treated because a few gold coins had changed hands. They all knew how other prisoners with no money at all were treated here in the Bastille and it was poorly to say the least.

Athos took up his position leaning against the wall behind Emile, eager to watch his young protégé D'artagnan as he took a seat at the table along with Aramis. Porthos, as the largest and physically stronger of the four stood facing Emile just inside the door.

For a few seconds there was silence in the room. All four musketeers were observing their suspect closely. D'artagnan took the folded list from inside his doublet and placed it on the table. Immediately Emile's nervous eyes were drawn to it, but before D'artagnan could explain what it was, he was interrupted. "Where is Claire? Surely you would not have brought my wife to the Bastille?"

Emile looked at each man beseechingly in turn, coming to Athos last. "Your wife is safe." The gruff reply was the only one he received. He began to fidget in his seat then, worry lacing his features. It crossed Athos' mind briefly that Emile was very unusually worried about his wife for a man who continually disrespected her by taking mistresses. He nodded at Aramis, the motion telling the marksman that he should begin.

"You know why you are here Monsieur," said Aramis. "We won't recount details of what I'm sure you have heard many times in the last day. What we wish to speak of is your recent visit to Provins. We would like to know what business you had in that area of France. We are already aware that you were visiting a friend as you passed through on your return to Paris. It is your business before this visit in that particular area that we are interested in."

Emile seemed genuinely confused. He shook his head incredulously at Aramis as beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. "I don't know what you mean by that. I was returning from Prussia as you are obviously aware. I hadn't intended to travel through Provins, but my wife sent word that she was visiting a friend and that I should meet her there."

At once a quizzical expression crossed Aramis' face as his eyes met Athos'. Athos did not recall Amorette mentioning that Claire Du Leroux had arrived at her home before her husband. Athos supposed that it might have slipped his mind, or perhaps she really hadn't mentioned it. "And who travelled with you from Prussia? A man-servant? Some chevalier?" As Athos had spoken from his position against the wall, Emile's head had turned slightly in his direction but he still wasn't looking at him directly. "A mistress perhaps?" Emile's head turned sharply as if it were on a roasting spit. He glared at Athos with intensity so fierce that it had the usually nonplussed musketeer no longer leaning against the wall and standing to attention, ready for the challenge.

Emile turned away from him and glared at the other three men in the room. Athos knew that he had hit a nerve. Emile seemed defensive whereas before he had been nervous. His tone was almost slimy. "I see that a silly little Mademoiselle has been running her mouth away!"

What happened next appeared almost a blur to Porthos who stood beside the door. All at once Athos launched himself towards the table. It was all he could do to grab the wood of the table instead of the lapels of Emile's coat as he leaned in so close that he could almost feel the touch of the man's eyelashes as he blinked. When Athos spoke, it was an almost indiscernible growl. "DO NOT SPEAK SO INFROMALLY OF THE COMETESS! The lady is your superior, your better and as such she deserves your respect!"

The atmosphere was thick and tense throughout the room as Athos stood over Emile, glaring at him. Aramis leaned across the table and gripped Athos' arm tightly, attempting to break his friend's concentration. He and Athos shared a look and then the marksman fell back into his seat again and Athos retreated to lean against the wall, but anger still radiated from him throughout the room. D'artagnan and Aramis were both unsure of what to say next but it was Porthos who rook up the gauntlet from behind them. "The lady you speak of is a friend to us. I'd advise you to have a care with how you speak of her." With a warning glance towards Athos, Porthos emphasised his point with quiet precision.

D'artagnan cleared his throat with apprehension. He glanced down at the folded list in front of him on the table, eager to bring the interrogation to a conclusion sooner rather than later. When Aramis remained quiet he took his chance to bring it towards a close. D'artagnan touched the letter gently with his hand. "Have you seen this folded piece of paper before?" Emile shook his head but chose to remain silent. "So you don't know what it contains?" Another shake of the head was all the answer they received. He seemed cautious to speak, lest he cause another outburst from Athos. "It's a list," D'artagnan continued, "of every gentleman who was commissioned by the King to investigate Huguenot stratagems throughout France and beyond. The only name missing from this list is yours. The man who recently died has had his name struck off this list. There were three others who were attacked. Their names have been marked in a similar fashion. Could you tell us why that is?"

"I've no answer for you. I've no knowledge of this list. Perhaps if you asked the author you might get your answers. Where has it come from?" Emile had the decency to look baffled and it didn't go unnoticed that there was still a hint of authority in his voice and his posture. He was not a man to forget who he was at any rate.

"The letter came from your friend Monsieur. You stayed with the Cometess De La Feuillette in Provins with your wife and this letter was found in the room you shared. If you do not recognise it, perhaps you could shed some light upon why it came to be there? Perhaps your mistress had a hand in it?"

D'artagnan's mention of the mistress seemed to have set Emile off again. He rolled his eyes and chucked incredulously. "I find it quite comical that you are interrogating me about supposed evidence that was found in a home that does not belong to me. Go and speak with your Cometess about this list! How on earth can you be certain it has anything to do with me? Chances are it was planted by the Cometess herself to incriminate me! Perhaps my wife put her up to it. We do not have a happy marriage, although I do not think she would wish to be rid of me this badly." With an air of importance Emile stroked his bearded chin in a thoughtful manner. He smirked as a thought appeared to cross his mind. "I know! The Cometess wished to seek revenge upon me for spurning her advances and planted this list to be rid of me and hide her shame! She is an alluring little chit, to be sure but I am a married man!"

Aramis jumped to his feet, anticipating what was about to happen. Athos propelled himself forward with rage evident in his eyes. Before Aramis or Porthos could reach the other side of the table Athos grabbed the back of Emile's chair and spun it so that the man faced him. Athos clutched Emile's shoulders and once again brought his face within inches of Emile's. "The Cometess offered you friendship and hospitality. She is generous, forgiving and chaste. You chose to abuse that friendship long before you entered this room and spoke disdainfully of her. The truth is that Mademoiselle spurned your advances and you were the one left shamed. If I ever hear from her that it was more than just an opportunist seduction and that there was foul play involved then you will wish you had stayed in Prussia! Pen and paper?" D'artagnan placed both on the table as Athos nodded his thanks. "Now we shall take your leave for a while Monsieur Du Leroux and you will take that time to make a note of any details that may be useful to us. You will include names and addresses of all of your mistresses! Yes, plural because we know there is likely more than one. You will do this before we return or God help you!" Athos stood to walk away but on impulse he turned back and grabbed the list that still lay upon the table. He thrust it at Emile who caught it in surprise. "Have a read of this list Monsieur; perhaps it will be of influence to you!" With that Athos stormed from the room, opening the door with such force that it caused a terrific bang as it hit the wall.

D'artagnan made to go after his mentor as he and the other two musketeers left the room but Porthos' hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Let him go lad. He'll work it out himself."

Sometime later, a much more composed Athos met his three friends at the inner door of the Bastille. They made their way back upstairs to finish what they had started and Aramis reassured Athos with a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Athos your anger is well meant, but it won't do to let him see it."

Porthos, walking ahead of the group, stopped at the stop of the steps and turned to look at them, looking pensive. "Something's not right about this. I don't recall Mademoiselle Amorette mentioning that Du Leroux's wife arrived ahead of her husband. I was under the impression that they travelled back from Prussia together."

"Great minds think alike," muttered Aramis.

Athos shook his head. "Amorette did not mention it. But then she did not mention anything to the contrary either. Perhaps the wife did arrive earlier and stay. We won't know until we speak to her again."

"Look I know he's a creep but what happens if he doesn't offer up any new information. What if he's innocent and he has no information to give?" Porthos looked to his three friends for answer, but he had known very well when he had asked that he might not receive one. Not one of them knew where they would take their investigation next.

"Shall we?" Aramis held open the door and the musketeers filed into the room again to find their charge much changed. Emile Du Leroux sat with the list in front of him, staring at it. He was pale and the hand that he held over his mouth shook. His eyes were wide jade orbs staring at the list as if it had grown legs and danced around the room. In that moment more than one musketeer let themselves believe that he might just be innocent. That he was shocked was an understatement.

Athos nodded his encouragement to D'artagnan who stepped forward and retrieved the list from the table. It was only then that Emile acknowledged their presence.

"Is this your handwriting?" D'artagnan asked. He received no answer. "It's clear to all of us that you do recognise the handwriting so all that you have to do is give us a name. Surely you would not want to be charged with treason and executed for a crime that was not yours?"

Emile shook his head then, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. Instead of answering any of D'artagnan's questions he asked one of his own. "Where is the Cometess De La Feuillette? Is she in Paris?"

"That's none of your concern!" barked Aramis from the corner of the room.

"Then will you permit me the knowledge of my wife's whereabouts? I surely cannot be denied it?" Emile was almost pleading now and something within his voice gave everything away to the musketeers in that moment. Athos turned and caught a worried glance between Aramis and Porthos.

Athos felt his blood run cold even as he approached the table. "Your wife was passed into the care of the Cometess yesterday. They left Paris at midday."

Emile brought his hand to his mouth to prevent a whimper escaping and Athos was on the brink of tearing down every locked door with his bare hands in his haste to leave the building, but he stood rooted to the spot determined to get the answer that would leave them beyond reasonable doubt. A sickening dread settled in the stomachs of all five men. In a quiet, even voice D'artagnan held up the list and whispered "Monsieur your wife told us and the Cometess that she cannot read or write. Surely this is not your wife's handwriting?"

Emile shook his head, starting to rock backwards and forwards in his chair, tears flowing freely. "I cannot. You must understand that I cannot. I cannot give up the name. My wife told you about her lacking abilities and you believed it without any justification? I'm sorry but a man may not condemn his wife!"

"He's right!" cried Aramis. "We took the lady's word for it but have we truly got any proof?"

Athos lunged forward, his patience at its last tether. He grabbed the lapels of Emile's doublet and forced him to meet his own gaze. "Let's keep it simple then. Is the Cometess in danger?"

Emile stared at him for a second, and Athos could feel the turmoil oozing from him. Then a delicate whisper broke the silence. "Very much so."

Emile's words were enough to send the musketeers dashing from the room without so much as sharing a look. They traced their way back to the garrison as fast as their feet would carry them and Porthos and D'artagnan approached their captain's office to inform him of the latest development as Athos and Aramis prepared the horses. Both men were keenly aware of the other's nerves as they took two horses each and made them ready. When they had finished and D'artagnan and Porthos were seen emerging from Captain Treville's office to meet them Athos turned to his marksman friend as a grim feeling settled over him. "Aramis if anything happens to her, then it's my fault."

The smell of sawdust and straw was the first thing to assault Amorette's senses when she awoke. Then came the blistering light of the morning sun as she gingerly opened her eyes. Clamping them shut again she tried to turn away from the sun's rays but found herself unable to move. A rising panic had her wriggling against whatever it was that held her down; or upright as she soon discovered. The bonds held firm and Amorette was sure that it was a thick rope that held her in place around her torso and arms as her legs still dangled limply. With no other choice now but to assess her surroundings Amorette carefully by just a minute fraction opened one eye at a time. The blinding daylight rushed in and she let out a yelp as her head panged. She'd forgotten about that. In fact she'd forgotten about quite a lot. Now memories came flooding back to her of a heavy object colliding with her head. The feeling of a dried crusted substance on the side of her face led Amorette to question just how long she had been unconscious. She wondered if it had been the night before when she had been attacked in her own home, or perhaps even longer.

As Amorette's eyes adjusted she realised that she was in an old woodwork barn. Large doors lay open to empty fields to her right and the sunlight poured through them and made the interior seem almost warm and inviting. The young Cometess was reminded of dances and banquets held in barns just like the one she was currently restrained within. Those barns had been far cleaner and richly decorated. This one held an odd array of objects within sight including different sized panels of wood and woodwork tools. Littering the floor was straw and more uncommonly, stacks of written letters. The most uncommon item of them all though was the hundreds of barrels that were piled high to the rafters on the other side of the barn. A shudder unwillingly rippled through Amorette as she dwelt upon just what might be contained within the barrels. The contents of the barn and even the building itself would cause quite a few sparks if it was barrels filled with gunpowder that Amorette kept her eyes dazedly trained on for what felt like the next few hours. A niggling headache that had grown throughout the day began to overwhelm Amorette just as sunset crept in and with no light to keep her alert she soon succumbed to sleep.

The crunching gravel underfoot and heavy breathing in the twilight were the only sounds to be heard as the four musketeers fearfully rushed from their horses towards the grand manor house. The front door was closed but not locked and when Porthos gently shoved it open they were met with an even more resounding silence from within than that of outside. Quietly stepping into the gloom it was the open doors of the dining room that caught Athos' attention. Just inside the door a hint of gold caught in the reflection of the moonlight on the polished wooden floors and he stepped into the room. Grasping what he immediately saw was a long heavy candlestick from the floor he turned to Aramis who had returned from the kitchen with a lantern. A flash of red in the lantern-light had Athos' stomach rolling. Blood graced one end of the candlestick and Aramis took it from him silently with an apprehensive glance to his friend. "The kitchen is empty, but a meal was cooked recently. The remains of it have gone cold but it wasn't cleared away," Aramis said as he ventured back out into the hall. Once again Athos was reminded of the resourcefulness of his marksman friend who knew imminently of the correct first room to search.

Athos followed Aramis out into the hallway and motioned to the staircase. Porthos was first to react and followed Athos to the upper floor of the house. At the top of the stairs they separated to search the opposing wings of the house with their weapons drawn. After ten minutes Porthos called out his news that he had found nothing. Athos called back a reply as he heard his friend descend the staircase again but he carried on towards one of the two rooms he had not yet looked into. The door was closed at first glance, but as he drew closer Athos saw a slither of light emitting from the side of the doorframe. As the door creaked open Athos knew immediately which room he was stepping into. He was assaulted with the light scent of lavender perfume and knew that he was in Amorette's bedroom. _It was always lavender_ , he recalled. There was nothing to find in Amorette's own room and Athos did not wish to spend too long in there so he moved on quickly to the last on this floor. Immediately the awkward angle of the bed with one of the posts jutting out into the room instead of pressing against the wall had Athos searching more thoroughly. He opened drawers and checked under the bed, firm in the knowledge that Emile and Claire Delaroux had shared this room during their stay. There was nothing to find though. Feeling dejected and torn Athos returned to the hallway to find his three friends converging in the parlour.

Aramis had lit candles around the room and still carried a lantern. Athos felt his heart rate pike slightly as he stepped into the room and his foot crunched in contact with the shards of a small ornament. The area of the room immediately in front of him was completely trashed. Chairs were overturned and ornaments lay smashed on the floor. One of the curtains had been torn from the rail above the window and was hanging limply by a thin piece of fabric and Athos noted the smear of blood that was visible upon the wall despite the dark wallpaper. His eyes were drawn towards the fireplace opposite him then and that side of the room remained mostly untouched and tidy, a marked difference to where he stood. The only remarkable disturbance on that side of the room had already been noticed by Aramis. The marksman pushed at the broken shards of a porcelain vase with his booted foot and rubbed his bearded chin in thought.

"What's bothering you?" asked D'artagnan as he joined him at the fireplace. Aramis shook his head a little as he pointed at the broken vase on the floor. "Aramis it's just a broken vase. The rest of the room is trashed, it's not unusual!"

Yes it is!" Aramis cried. This side of the room remains untouched apart from the vase. The fight took place over there," Aramis pointed to where Athos still stood and waited for his three friends to come to the same conclusion that he had. "Not here!" He saw Porthos turn his head sharply towards him as he too began to ponder the clue that was the broken vase. Aramis crouched to his knees and lifted a shard from the floor. "This is expensive porcelain, not something that one would break on impulse. The smashing of this vase was deliberate."

"So…?" questioned D'artagnan.

Aramis placed his hands within the porcelain shards again and then rose to stand at his full height suddenly with a gold signet ring between two of his long tanned fingers. "So our Cometess is a clever Mademoiselle!" he said with a grin. Athos began to cross the room to inspect the ring, but even from a few yards away he recognised the coat of arms engraved into the ring.

"Du Poitier," mumbled Porthos from Athos' left. "Who just so happens to hold land near Calais! Didn't the Cometess say she would buy passage to England on a ship for Claire Du Leroux?"

D'artagnan drew closer to the other musketeers then, so that they stood in squared formation. "I doubt Claire Du Leroux would have had the strength to thump someone with that candlestick and draw blood though. There must have been someone else here."

Aramis nodded stiffly as he observed the turmoil on Athos' face. "So Claire Delaroux possibly already has passage secured for her own journey to England. My guess is that Mademoiselle Amorette secured that on her way to meet with us in Paris and give us that list, so with a half-English Cometess I'm sure they believe it wouldn't be too difficult to obtain passage for the accomplice too. They would need her alive though. My guess is that they will hide on Du Poitier's land until such a time as they can gain that extra ticket."

Porthos turned and stormed towards the door calling back to his friends, "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get ourselves onto Du Poitier's land!"

Waking the next morning was worse than it had been the day before. The first thing that Amorette noticed was not blinding sunlight but nauseous thirst. Her tongue was almost stuck to the roof of Amorette's mouth as she swallowed repeatedly, trying to distribute saliva around her mouth. Despite feeling more ill than the day before Amorette felt more determined to try and at least figure out where on earth she was. The climate led her to believe that she hadn't travelled that far south as it wasn't any warmer than she was accustomed to in Provins. She didn't rule out the simple fact that she could have travelled quite far north towards Calais and it was simply a warm day. The Barrels of what Amorette suspected contained gunpowder were still making her extremely nervous but when her breathing became deep and laboured in panic she found it difficult to regulate it again due to the tightness of the ropes around her body and what she assumed was a wooden pillar. Any efforts to try and loosen the ropes and been curbed by her wrists being bound around the other side of the pillar so Amorette resolved to stay calm and endeavoured to do this by reading the letters strewn all over the floor.

With her head painfully tilted to the side, Amorette scanned simple household lists and letters that were written in barely legible French. After a while she gave up on the papers and turned her gaze upon her limp feet. It was then that she noticed papers under her right foot that sparked her attention. Again the handwriting was very bad, but Amorette could clearly make out a few English words within the letter. The words which stuck in her mind as she anxiously looked towards the barrels were " _catholic king of England... burn… Protestant cause… Break …transporting gunpowder."_ There was a plot to kill the King of England and Amorette had found herself slap bang in the middle of it. She had thought perhaps she had been left here to die in a barn in the middle of nowhere but now Amorette was sure that someone was coming back to collect that gunpowder and she had a sneaking suspicion that she was their way into England.

 _ **If you haven't already guessed, I'm a bit in love with Athos myself. With what I have planned for this story though, I'm sure that love won't last long.**_


	6. Chapter 6

_**I only own Amorette.**_

It took a lot of persuasion to get onto Du Poitier's land. The musketeers had thought to call upon the family's grand chateau first as Porthos knew a little about the family and thought it better to obtain permission from Monsieur Du Poitier before searching his land. Whilst Porthos had never met the man he had heard that he was not of an agreeable disposition and that his five sons shared this temperament. Thus they found themselves forced to wait outside in a light drizzle of rain as Du Poitier's manservant went to fetch his master. All four musketeers were slightly on edge, Athos in particular. Waiting around didn't sit well with him and he let his horse wander the yard away from the doorway a little as he still sat astride his saddle. He was watching the countryside that sprawled out towards the horizon from either side of the road they had travelled upon and grew more nervous with every second. The landscape as presented to him from this vantage point showed no valid hiding places and Athos sincerely hoped that Porthos was right in his theory that the Du Poitier's owned vast amounts of farmland that stretched far beyond the hills that curtained the rear of the chateau.

He watched as a well-dressed gentleman appeared in the doorway, a defined scowl upon his face. Athos noted that his friends were not invited in out of the rain and were forced to speak with Du Poitier whilst he stood under the cover of the porch. Grimacing a little, Athos turned his horse with a nudge of his knee and moved closer. "If your sons are at home we would need to speak with them," he heard Porthos say as he fell into line beside Aramis.

Du Poitier shook his head gruffly. "My sons are not at home. I'll have you tell me what all of this is about before I even consider letting you roam over all of my land, disturbing my tenants!"

"We don't have much time-" began Porthos but he was silenced with a wave of Du Poitier's hand. He then motioned for the musketeers to enter the house and turned on his heel. Athos groaned but D'artagnan, already dismounted and halfway towards the door shrugged his shoulders.

Aramis dismounted beside Athos and whispered to him "Athos we may be completely wrong about the Du Poitiers being involved in all of this. I don't think we are but we have to be sure. Better to take shelter in the house for a few minutes and get his permission to search his land, it will make the whole business easier. We may also procure some vital information from him."

Athos nodded although he still felt uncomfortable wasting time. He dismounted and followed his friends into a large hallway. Du Poitier seemed the picture of calm, offering them all a drink and motioning for them to take a seat. Both offers were declined by the musketeers and Athos rolled his eyes, growing more nervous with every second that passed. He knew that his friends were not comfortable with waiting either but they seemed to hide it far better than he could in that moment for Aramis gently laid a hand on his shoulder. Du Poitier had sensed his uneasiness too and for a moment he simply looked around at his four musketeer guests as he sipped his glass of brandy. Athos noted that it was very early for such a stiff drink if a man had nothing in particular to hide. He watched their host's hands though, and they seemed steady enough.

"My son Michael was here last night with his wife but he left this morning. I expect he wants to return to Paris." All four men were taken aback by Du Poitier's admittance.

D'artagnan looked confused as leaned forward in his saddle. "We didn't meet anyone on the road Monsieur!"

"Well I expect not! They have only just left the house. They will be saddling their horses and loading their baggage. My son's wife has quite a lot of it; you know what women and dresses are like. Not that it's any of your business. My other sons currently reside in the south with their uncle. Will you permit me to know what all of this is about?"

Athos chose to remain silent lest his anger should get the better of him and D'artagnan was left to find a way to explain their presence. "Monsieur we track two individuals who have committed treason. They may or may not have passed this way. We believe they seek passage to England and your lands provide the perfect hiding place. You are only an hour's ride from the port in Calais but far enough away that anyone searching the port wouldn't think to come this far out. You may or may not be aware if these felons have taken shelter on your land and that is why we have asked your permission to search it."

"And what's it got to do with my sons? As I said, they are with their uncle! You've come here to accuse them haven't you?"

Porthos didn't answer Du Poitier's question and instead asked one of his own. "You've confirmed that one of your sons isn't with his uncle in the south but was in fact here last night! The uncle, is he your late wife's Prussian half-brother?"

At once Athos and D'artagnan shared a look. There was the answer that had eluded them so far. "When my wife died," Du Poitier poured himself another glass of brandy as he spoke. "My sons were taken into the care of their uncle when my wife passed away. They moved south and four of them have yet to return. Michael has been staying with me for a year on and off since his marriage. His wife wanted to be closer to family that resides in Paris. Thus they stay here often."

Athos shifted towards the door a little, impatient to commence their search and wondering if he could slip out of the room unnoticed but Aramis shot him a warning look. Porthos stepped forward as the air in the room changed drastically. "Sounds like your sons spent a lot of time with their uncle; long enough to influence them religiously. We believe that your son is one of the individuals that we currently track and a friend of ours may be in danger. Let's be honest, it sounds like your son is using you Monsieur. He's only here because his wife wishes to be within traveling distance of Paris! Otherwise they would be with their Prussian uncle in the south!"

It seemed their host had experienced enough. He had paled considerably during Porthos' speech and slammed his glass of Brandy down on a side table. With one last look to all four of them he made for a door at the side of the hall and attempted to separate himself from the musketeers, but Athos was ready for the movement and reached the door in time to jar it open with his foot. Du Poitier growled from behind the door as Athos shoved his shoulder into the gap, opening it even further. "The baggage your son is loading?" he questioned as he continued to throw his weight against the door. "Did it include a young woman?"

"Don't be ridiculous! My son is a married man and I won't tolerate such insinuations! If you do not leave my land immediately I will fetch the local magistrate." Du Poitier gave up trying to force the door closed after a few seconds and let it swing open.

"Call the magistrate if you want!" Porthos called from the middle of the room. "We are on the king's business and as such no magistrate has authority over us. Your magistrate cannot stop us searching your land Monsieur. We came here to seek permission to search your land but we don't need it! We can continue our search without permission just as well!"

Aramis appeared at Athos' side and in his hand he held the signet ring they had found in Amorette's home. If Du Poitier had been pale before, now he appeared almost transparent. All four musketeers watched as defeat overwhelmed Du Poitier and he slowly nodded. Not sparing another glance Athos dashed to the door with D'artagnan hot on his heels. "Search the house then meet us at the stables!" he called over his shoulder to Porthos and Aramis as they left the house.

Amorette had not realised just how thirsty she had been until the cool fresh water rolled onto her tongue. The tankard was pressed to her lips gently again and she gratefully gulped down more. She didn't let the moment of sustenance overwhelm her though. She made note of the fact that fresh water was carried to the barn in a pitcher and then poured into a tankard which indicated a stream or river nearby and the more stranger occurrence, that Claire had taken a gentle care with the water and was now using some of it and a piece of cloth to clean some of the dried blood from her face. They were not alone though. Amorette suspected that the man who had attacked her in her home and had appeared to her then as a blurred figure was the source of many new sounds from beyond her eye line. When he finally did step into view Amorette was forced to remind herself of the shape of the ring she had ripped from his finger two days before. It had been a signet ring, that she had known but it was the coat of arms that still perplexed her. She couldn't place just which great house or family it belonged to because it had been split in half, probably after a marriage in which two great families had created an important alliance. One side bore the mark of two stars and that was easy enough to place. That coat of arms belonged to the Du Poitier's. The other side of the crest had not been clear enough for her to make out though and Amorette despaired at the thought that perhaps the undecipherable side of that crest might just be the most important factor in all this. Of course, Du Poitier could be the answer she was looking for and all that Amorette really knew about the man was that he had sons and his wife was long dead. Amorette resolved to give up all thoughts of the ring and simply hope that whoever did find it eventually would be able to draw the right conclusions from the only clue she had been able to leave behind.

Instead Amorette turned her attention to the man who still stood with his back to her. He was taller than her by a fair few inches, but he was not as tall as Porthos had been. The natural colour of the man's hair was hidden by a dark brown wig but that seemed to be the only deception about him for even from the back Amorette could tell that his clothes had been cut and made for him specifically. He moved with grace, and when his bandaged right hand shot out Amorette pushed down the slight bubble of satisfaction she felt. She might have wounded him slightly, but she was still trussed to a wooden pillar feeling rather foolish for not knowing what was really happening. When the man eventually turned away from the barrels to face her Amorette was deeply underwhelmed because before Amorette stood a very nondescript middle aged gentleman. The dark colour of the wig he wore washed out his already sickly pallor and his eyes were blood shot and tired. _Just what was it that had drawn Claire to such a man?_ He was strong though, with thick arms that could probably crush her to death very quickly. _So why on earth hadn't they?_

Amorette locked eyes with the man who she suspected to be Du Poitier's first born son and wondered why on earth she was still breathing. Claire had told her far too much and by rights they should want her dead. The man watched her intently whilst Claire hovered a few yards from her and Amorette had never felt more scrutinised in her life. His gaze grew more unnerving with each second that passed and soon Amorette felt nothing but repulsion having to stand in front of him. She broke eye contact first and turned to look at Claire who threw her a disgruntled look and moved to the man's side. Claire's coldness didn't fit with the tenderness she had just shown in feeding her fresh water.

"Don't judge me!" Claire's sharp whisper came from across the barn and Amorette would have laughed if the situation had not been so dire. Claire had given up a respectable marriage and position to run with a rebel and murderer and now wished for Amorette to look upon the situation with an open mind. Amorette found that she could not have a lower opinion of her former friend in that moment. She remained quiet on that subject however as she thought it might antagonise the situation further.

Instead Amorette asked a burning question. "Why am I still alive? Surely there's the risk that I could ruin everything for you?"

Amorette had directed the question to Claire, still uncomfortable with looking the man in the eyes. Claire didn't speak though, and slowly Amorette felt her eyes drawn to an olive green gaze that was already trained upon her. The man stepped closer and Amorette flinched slightly. When he spoke there was something behind the words that Amorette found lacking; almost like bread half baked, a plan only half organised. "Mademoiselle you are our ticket into England." The man exuded confidence but there was a note of stress in his voice. "You will get us all passage on a ship and your name will aid us in England." 

Amorette began to struggle against her bindings. "Whatever it is you're planning, I won't help you! I'll die first!"

A harrowing chuckle escaped the man's mouth as he moved closer again and Amorette noticed that in his uninjured hand he held a musket. "Hear me Mademoiselle. You will help us in this. In England you will aid us with your good name and its influence to gain us positon and power and you will do so before the opening of the king's parliament!"

A memory stirred in Amorette's mind. "What does the opening of parliament have to do with anything?" Amorette already knew the answer though. The memory of a story that she had been told as a small child grew in her mind like a ripple in an otherwise undisturbed pond. A few years before she was born in 1605 a plot to kill King James I of England had not succeeded, but Amorette suspected that all children of English parents were told the story from a young age. Her eyes darted back and forth between the man and the barrels of gunpowder behind him and Amorette began to understand that that the man before her now thought himself superior to Guy Fawkes and Robert Catesby. There was silence as Claire and her lover shared a look, aware that Amorette had just worked out what they intended to do. "I won't help!" barked Amorette. "You shall have to kill me, for the first chance I get I will speak of what I know! I spent time in England as a child and I know the ramifications of the gunpowder plot! I know what became of those men and all associated with them. Your families and friends will be ruined forever and your names tarnished. By the sounds of it you have no conspirators! Just two Protestants with some barrels of gunpowder who want to kill the King of England? You forget who my father is? I have been in the presence of the men who are charged with the responsibility of the safety of the King and you will not succeed! You aren't really fuelled by religion are you? This fool's errand is all for gold coin and no one will follow you. Religious influence may have gained you some kind of following, but using my money to try to buy the support of English Protestants won't work!"

Amorette could feel his breath on her face as he almost launched himself at her. The words she had spoken rang in Amorette's own ears. For a moment there was only silence as the man stared her down and Claire stood on the side-lines seemingly uninterested by all that was happening. Amorette knew that she would never willingly help these people but she did begin to fear just what lengths they would be prepared to go to in order to force her hand. Amorette would rather die than be a part of such a scheme. Amorette glanced down to the musket in the man's hand and wondered if she could antagonise him enough to use it. "You said you wish to use the name of my father to gain favour in England," began Amorette, "But you are protestant are you not? My name will be of no use to you. The circles my father moves in are not the sort that you would need. My father is catholic for goodness sake! My mother was a French Catholic which is even worse! You will not receive protestant favour, they will laugh at you! They will not wish to buy the throne of England with the gold of a prominent and ruthless catholic peer of the realm. To use my influence would only incriminate you further!"

The man turned away sharply as Amorette finished speaking and she was left open mouthed at his apparent lack of interest in what she had to say. He walked towards Claire who still had yet to acknowledge the conversation and ordered her to bring a cart forwards to the entrance of the barn to load the barrels. Amorette's mouth widened in shock at his foolishness. "Didn't you just hear a word I said?" she cried. The man was approaching Amorette again but before she had the chance to say anything else the butt of his musket collided with the side of her face. If Amorette had not been so securely tied to the pillar she would have flown backwards into the bales of hay behind her, but the ropes that so tightly encased her prevented much movement. Instead all of the momentum and impact was taken by the pillar when Amorette's head slammed backwards. Almost instantly her head rolled to the side and Amorette's shoulders sagged a little against the ropes that bound her. she felt a trickle of blood escape her mouth and watched almost in slow motion as a droplet landed on a piece of paper on the floor; and was quickly followed by Amorette's tears landing like splodges of paint on a canvas.

Suddenly the silence was penetrated by a cold, menacing voice from the entrance of the barn. "Do that again and I will shoot you!" It was followed by clicking sounds resonating in the silence as the catches of two muskets were released. Amorette's head jerked upwards in surprise and she winced slightly as pain seared through the side of her face. Recognising the voice, she tried to ignore the pain as she gazed in the direction of the entrance to the barn. She was met with the sight of two musketeers with their muskets trained on Michael Du Poitier. Du Poitier was quickest to react though and Amorette felt the barrel of his musket press into her skin where her neck met her chest. The air in the barn was thick with tension and for a few moments no one dared to speak. Amorette couldn't take her eyes of Du Poitier as he hatefully gazed at Athos and Aramis. Both musketeers were advancing towards them into the middle of the barn and Amorette couldn't help gasping in pain as Du Poitier pressed the barrel of his musket into her chest even harder. Amorette still couldn't take her fearful eyes from him. Before, she had known that he needed her alive but now that he was cornered with virtually no way out she would be of no use to him. A frightened squawk reminded Amorette swiftly that Claire was stood a little way to the side as a musket ball collided with a wooden beam above her head. Amorette guessed that her former friend had tried to make a run for it and that Aramis had fired a warning shot at her. Du Poitier growled and pulled away from her to shield Claire. Amorette was vaguely aware of someone calling her name then, but it sounded so far off in the distance that she thought she was imagining it. Then all at once a voice so full of music and melody called her name. _He_ had spoken and ever so slowly Amorette found the strength to turn from Du Poitier and look to Athos. Concern flooded his features as he gazed back and it dawned on Amorette that Aramis must have been the first to call her name, and that it had taken Athos' voice to dispel her fear a little.

Aramis turned his attention on her also, and immediately at the site of the blood on her face he lowered his musket and stepped forwards with his other arm outstretched towards her. He stopped short though when Du Poitier bellowed something almost inaudible to Amorette. Aramis seemed to understand though for he held up a hand in surrender and retreated a few steps. Amorette considered then that everything sounded strange and distorted to her in that moment. She let her heavy head fall slowly forwards to look at the floor and found her gaze trained on her droplet of blood that had stained the papers at her feet. When a light breeze picked up and rustled the papers Amorette's attention was caught by a caricature sketch. The breeze died down and the sketch disappeared underneath another piece of paper. Amorette mustered all the strength that she had left in that moment and managed to lift her leg enough to slide some of the papers away with her foot. When she did so, she was faced with a hauntingly familiar sketch. Amorette had seen something very similar as a small child. Before her was a caricature of James I of England upon his throne, and crouched below his throne was a man that she guessed was Guy Fawkes with a barrel of gunpowder in one hand and a torch in the other. Amorette's head jerked up painfully for a second time as she realised that she needed to alert the musketeers to the presence of enough gunpowder to blow up the barn they currently stood in. Desperately she stared at the two men who were heatedly conversing with Du Poitier. Athos' face was puce with anger and his knuckles had turned white with the strain of his tight grip upon his weapon. Aramis seemed deceptively calm in comparison and it was his eye that Amorette caught as he suddenly seemed to sense her gaze. She watched him for a second to be sure that she had his attention and then with her eyes she looked down and then up again. He caught the movement and his gaze moved to her feet, where she toed the caricature paper with one foot. Amorette watched for realisation on his face but found none. Instead Aramis looked at her again and unashamedly winked. How could they already know?

All of a sudden Amorette thought that something above her had shifted and she looked up into the rafters towards the thatched roof, sure that she had seen movement there. Sure enough, a few stray slivers of hay fell lazily down towards the floor and Amorette returned her gaze to Aramis who winked again. Swiftly Amorette was aware of just where the other two musketeers were. Du Poitier appeared not to have noticed the movement from the roof. He was still attempting to spar with Athos. Amorette began to pull on the ropes harder than she had before in fear of what was probably a very unstable roof, made even worse by the two musketeers trampling all over it. A lull in the heated conversation had Amorette turning back to the others in the barn with her. Athos and Aramis still had their eyes and muskets trained on Du Poitier and Claire but there was a new panic there. Claire stood almost on top of the barrels with her hand outstretched, and in that hand she held a lit taper. For a split second Amorette questioned just where Claire had gotten the taper from, but that thought was quickly dispelled when she remembered her surroundings. The whole barn with its wooden beams, bales of straw and reams of paper was a readymade tinder box.

Athos edged towards Claire slowly with his free hand outstretched. "Why don't you come down from there Madame and we can discuss this like adults. If you set alight that gunpowder then you and Monsieur Du Poitier will be blown to pieces, Mademoiselle Amorette along with you. Mademoiselle who was nothing but a friend to you and who, I am sure would have done everything within her power to help you had you only asked. You would wish to cause harm to someone who has been your biggest supporter in these last few days? That is a poor repayment indeed."

Claire's gaze flickered to Amorette and back a few times, but she didn't lower the lit taper. Athos now stood directly below her and Amorette felt the urge bubble inside her to call out to him to run. Athos' words seemed to have had some sort of effect upon Claire for a solemn look graced her features. Du Poitier's low growl cut through the tense silence of the barn. "Do it!" Another shot rang through the air but this time Aramis hit his mark. Du Poitier fell to his knees clutching his shoulder as blood began to seep through the gaps in his fingers.

Claire looked to Amorette who vigorously shook her head at her friend, but in Claire's eyes she saw a note of finality there. She was so lost in the eyes of her friend who stood soberly with the taper aloft that she missed the quick movements of Athos and Aramis as they reached her and began to cut at the bindings that held her. Amorette only realised just what was about to happen when Athos and Aramis gave a loud cry of "NOW!" in unison as the last rope was cut. Amorette had not had the use of her legs for two days and when she tried to put weight on them again, they crumbled beneath her. Aramis caught her around the waist before she could fall and began to drag her outside. Amorette searched for Claire as straw and wood from the roof tumbled as Porthos and D'artagnan succeeded in bringing it down. Her last glimpse of her friend was harrowing to say the least. Claire stood as she had been before with taper in hand, waiting as straw, paper and wood caught fire around her. Amorette called out to Claire as arms forced her through the doorway and into the late morning light. Porthos and D'artagnan landed beside them from the roof into a cart filled with hay and all five of them raced through the field as they tried to put as much distance between themselves and the barn. Just as Amorette began to think they had gained enough distance, they were all knocked off their feet as the force of the blast hit them in a wave of warm air.

Looking back towards the barn from where Amorette sat in the next field, she could clearly see that although the quantity of gunpowder that she had seen was enough to all but destroy the barn, it wouldn't have blown up the houses of parliament in London. When Athos and Porthos returned from their scout of the barn their faces were grave. Amorette knew in her heart that Claire was dead as she had been directly where the fire had broken out but witnessing the quick glance that Porthos and Aramis shared, she knew that something was amiss.

"We've got a problem," sighed Porthos. "Du Poitier's nowhere to be found."

"What? He lived through that?" D'artagnan looked to his three friends in disbelief.

"He's injured!" Amorette spoke up. "You shot him Aramis! He won't be that far ahead."

"We could run him down," muttered Athos. "Aramis you and D'artagnan should stay here with Mademois-"

"And what if he reaches Calais and boards an English ship?" Amorette interrupted. "If he's managed to buy his way on board then I doubt French musketeers could persuade an English captain to hand him over." Porthos nodded his agreement. "I'll come with you; my father's name might have some influence."

Athos scrutinised her closely as she still sat in the long grass. "Are you well enough to ride?"

Amorette jumped to her feet with as much energy as she could muster and although she felt unsteady she didn't show it. "Don't ask ridiculous questions…" she muttered as she wandered off in the direction of what looked like stables.

"You'd better ride with one of us," announced Aramis from astride his horse. "I doubt asking the old man to lend a horse would go down very well."

Athos placed his hands on her waist from behind. "Agreed," he called to Aramis as he lifted Amorette. He placed her side saddle in front of Aramis on his horse and then mounted his own horse.

As the others moved off Aramis folded his cloak around Amorette for warmth. "It will be a rather rough ride Mademoiselle, but you should try to sleep if you can. It will be quite alright, I've got you." Aramis placed his arm firmly around her middle and despite knowing that she wouldn't sleep whilst traveling at break-neck speed Amorette felt a rush of gratitude for him. She did feel safe with the marksman, and so she relaxed her stiffened posture and leaned against him. There was something about Aramis that was overwhelmingly reassuring and Amorette was sure that it wasn't just his dashing Hispanic good looks. Something in his manner told Amorette that he was the gentlest of souls. Although his voice lacked the deep musicality that Amorette sometimes heard from Athos, Aramis had quite an easy quality to his tone that relieved her worries a little. Athos always made her feel uneasy and Amorette was certain that she would always feel that way around him. It didn't help that every time she looked at him Amorette thought about being in his arms, with him speaking words of reassurance rather than Aramis. No, she was glad to be sharing the Journey with Aramis. Sat atop a horse with Athos would have had her squirming and spluttering with apprehension so much that he would have grown tired of her and passed her onto one of his friends eventually.

"How did you know?" Amorette blurted out impulsively. "How did you know about the gunpowder?"

"What Can I say?" Aramis' voice was quiet and slow as he spoke directly into her ear. "We're good! No, we didn't know but we knew that Du Poitier would have some sort of store of weapons. From our approach the barn roof was obviously unstable so we had a readymade distraction. We sent Porthos and D'artagnan to bring it down on our signal. We didn't intend to cause harm, but I feel that I cannot be sorry for your friend's death when I think of what they planned to do. There is something however which I wish to ask you. Did you know that your friend Claire was a bigamist? She was married both to Emile Delaroux and Michael Du Poitier."

Amorette gasped. She had thought Du Poitier Claire's lover, not her husband. "No I did not! Certainly tarnishes their religious plight somewhat though."

Aramis made a sound of agreement and was silent. Amorette was left to her own thoughts of just how little she had really known Claire.

When they reached Calais after a very tumultuous horse ride, they stood on the quay for some time as Amorette tried to spot the English ships and D'artagnan suggested trying them all after a while. Just as they began walking towards some ships flying an Italian flag Athos noticed the bough of a ship come in to port with the cross of St George on the side. Abandoning the Italian one, they all rushed towards the English ship fully aware that someone could easily board the ship unnoticed, due to their hindered view as they moved along the quay.

When they reached the starboard side it was to find a crew member pulling the gangplank up. Porthos called out to the man but was ignored so Amorette stepped forward and called out to him in English. "Good sir! Permission to come aboard? We wish to speak with your captain!"

At the sound of a female voice the man turned sharply. For a second he hesitated as he saw the musketeers stood behind her before nodding gently and lowering the gangplank again. All five of them began to walk haphazardly across the thin strip of wood to board the ship and Amorette decided to take the lead and speak in English. "Your captain?" she enquired as the man watched the musketeers traipse up the gangplank behind her.

"You're looking at him!" he grumbled in a thick west-country accent.

"You are Captain Lewis?" He nodded. "I am the Cometess de La Feuillette."

Captain Lewis nodded again as if expecting her. "Forgive me My Lady but when you wrote you mentioned only one companion travelling with you. I cannot also take these four men!"

Amorette saw him eyeing the musketeers with distrust and frowned a little. "Captain these friends of mine are not sailing today and neither am I. My original plan was for a female companion and I to travel to London, but that plan has fallen through. I fear though that you have already let someone come aboard this ship in my name. My friends and I would ask that you hand this gentleman over to us now."

Captain Lewis shook his head as his eyes flickered towards a door that led down into the bowels of the ship. Amorette felt someone behind her move forward but she held out her and to stop them. They did not need arguments and misunderstandings in French. "I'm afraid I believe you to be lying sir. We know of a man that would stop at nothing to get off French soil this very day. I trust you know of my father, Lord Percy Barclay? He has contacts sir." Captain Lewis shrugged again and Amorette pulled herself up to her full height despite knowing she looked an awful sight. "I must tell you sir that if you set sail with that man aboard your ship to Portsmouth, Dover, Southampton or even up the Thames there will be men waiting to arrest him and you when you make port. There are many other ships along this quay that would be only too happy to deliver my message for a small sum."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Captain Lewis muttered.

Amorette's patience was wearing thin. She was tired and very cold. Her head and cheek throbbed and she felt as if her legs would give way at any moment. With one last step forward she pushed her shoulders back and stuck her chin in the air. Only a few feet from him, Amorette could see into his fearful eyes. "I have no doubt that you know of my father sir. If you sail with that man then you knowingly endanger your own King. Do you know just what kind of trouble you will find yourself in when you make port with him? I have friends in high places in England, protestant and Catholic alike and many of them are within the king's inner circle. Rest assured your actions will be known."

Amorette took a few steps back as she watched a nervous look grace Captain Lewis' face. Ever so slowly he turned to look behind him and then he turned sharply, seeming to have made his decision. He nodded and opened his mouth to speak but he was halted by the sound of a door banging. Du Poitier had emerged from below deck, raced across the deck and dived overboard into the cold water before any of them could react. Amorette ran to the side and Athos was right behind her. As she leaned over the railing to look for Du Poitier she felt his gloved hand land on her shoulder. A shot rang out from Athos musket and Amorette felt the vibrations of it run right through her from the touch of his hand. His arm was still outstretched beside her and for a moment Amorette could only look at it. She didn't want to see the sight of the dead man in the water but at length Athos' grip on her shoulder increased and she knew that he wanted her to look, wanted her to see that it was all over now. When she did look, it was to find French men in a small fishing boat pulling the body from the water. They rowed to the quay-side as Porthos raced down the gangplank. He crouched over Du Poitier but a second or two was all it took for him to look back up to Athos and nod. Dead.

When Amorette finally reached her bed chamber in the early hours of the morning she didn't even bother to take off her dress. Just inside the door she kicked off her shoes and launched herself under her thick blanket and fell asleep instantly, safe in the knowledge that four other beds in the house were occupied that night. When she awoke the next morning, silence greeted her. Amorette had known they would be gone by the time she woke. There was still noise outside though and Amorette got out of bed and watched them saddle up from the window. At some point in the night she had felt uncomfortable and stood to unclasp her dress and corset and let them fall to create a puddle on the floor where they still lay. She slipped a simple house coat on over her shift and ambled downstairs. When she reached the door and wrenched it open Amorette saw four stallions and their riders in the distance. She swore though that the blue penetrating gaze of the last rider turned to look back at her just as he rounded the corner and was gone from sight.

Amorette closed the door again and wandered through the hall, stopping short when something caught her eye. Walking into the dining room she found a mahogany box on the table, and resting on top of it were sprigs of lavender tied with a small silk ribbon. Amorette couldn't help smiling to herself as she pressed the lavender to her nose and inhaled its heavenly scent. Opening the lid of the box she found Athos' ornate pistols lying on a bed of red velvet, and she ran her fingers over the cool metal as she remembered the day Athos had first given her the pistols.

 _Amorette thought that carriage journeys were never more comfortable than when she was with Athos. He sat stiffly beside her as she kicked off her shoes and let her stockinged feet rest on the seat opposite them. "Oh stop looking so uncomfortable with the whole thing," she muttered as she swatted Athos' arm lightly with her fan. "It's a good day! To think that just a few months ago I was distraught to lose my mother and was all alone in the world and now I have a sister. You'll like her; honestly."_

 _Athos sighed from beside her and continued to stare out through the shades that blocked a little of the glaring sunlight. "I don't like it. I've already told you so. You barely know this woman! Even if she is your sister you have no knowledge of who she is or where she came from! You know my apprehension is well founded. I have a care for you that is all. Besides, people will talk about the silly Cometess who took in her commoner sister and was made a fool by her!"_

" _Oh Athos! You and I are in a carriage together unchaperoned. People already talk! And as for Ann, she has already proven herself I believe. She did stay with me for a month, and even though now she takes care of herself I feel that I've known her years already." Amorette Placed her feet back on the ground and turned to face him. "I know you are worried for me and it is very sweet of you, but honestly; she's wonderful. You will like her! She is rather wild of course, and she says the most scandalous things but she is strong and fierce. We are the best of friends!"_

 _Athos turned to her then with a scowl upon his face. "Amorette you are just a child. She is a grown woman. You will both have many differences to set you apart. I fail to see how you can be the closest of companions! You have title and fortune which as your mother's first born child she missed out on. I'm not with you today to meet your darling new sister and rejoice just yet for your finding her. I'm here as your real and true friend to determine just how trustworthy she really is! You know I'm only doing it for your own good."_

 _Amorette reached forward and squeezed his hand, gratitude for her oldest friend warming her heart despite his cold words. "I know all of this and thank you for it most profusely. All I ask of you is not to speak of any of this to my sister. I am not asking you to take great pains with her and become cordially acquainted, but please just be polite to her. If you say all that you have said to me then you may scare her off."_

 _Athos nodded then and smiled at her. With a squeeze of her hand he had reassured her. "No you are right. I will be polite and cordial and will look for the best in your sister. I am not here to assassinate her you know, I just don't think we can readily accept her when we know her so little."_

 _Amorette squeezed his hand again as his blue orbs disarmed her a little. She smiled bashfully and leaned back against the seat with her feet up again. "There's something I must ask of you though," said Athos as he leaned across to the opposite seat to tug on his cloak._

 _Amorette watched as the cloak slid to the floor of the carriage and an ornate mahogany box was revealed. "Yes, just what is it that you've had hidden under your cloak for all this time?" she simpered._

 _Athos chuckled at her curious stare and reached for the box. Presenting it to her he lifted the lid to reveal the box of ornate pistols that had been made especially for him. "I'd like you to take care of these for me. I'll be going away for a time, and I can't take these with me. Besides, I know you're too terrified to lift any of your father's guns for fear that they are booby trapped. I'd like you to have something to protect yourself with should you need to, and I know that you trust me. So these pistols are for your safe-keeping. I would trust no-one else with them!"_

 _Amorette took the box from him and held it in front of her, staring at the ornate designs etched into the handles of the pistols. "Athos my family has many sets of pistols and muskets. Most of which are mine now, but if you wish me to keep these safe for you and return them to you when you come back then I will do it." Amorette jumped from her seat and leaned over him then, calling and waving to her sister outside the carriage. "Ann! Ann! We are here Athos, remember what I said. Be nice!"_

 _Athos took the box back into his hands, closed the lid and placed it under his cloak on the seat again. Climbing down from the carriage first, he held out his hand to help Amorette down, her hand barely touching his as she rushed to greet the woman that awaited them. Amorette clutched her sister's hands in hers as they whispered animatedly like two young women sharing the most exciting news. Then the sister's gaze shifted swiftly to Athos. He guessed that Amorette had mentioned him, but something stopped him from stepping forward. It was if an invisible wall had built itself between him and the two women. Ann seemed almost alien to him, with a torturous gaze and a clear, superior complexion. He knew that Ann had spoken but he hadn't heard a word that she had said. Some unseen force seemed to want to block her interference. Then Amorette spoke and he heard her, and felt her touch upon his arm._

" _Hello. I'm Anne De Breuil." Suddenly the moment was gone, and Ann stood with her hand outstretched to him. He took the hand in his and kissed it gently, startled by how cold her skin was to the touch._

 _She smiled a knowing smile at him and walked on, and he was left to bring up the rear with Amorette. "Don't fret little one, I'll be the perfect gentleman," he whispered, not sure whether he was loud enough to be heard._

" _You always are," was her whispered reply. "Now go and talk to her, I'm sure our great friendship will isolate her if you don't at least discuss the weather." When Athos turned to her with a grimace upon his face Amorette simply chuckled and pushed him in front of her._

 _It was cold when they reached the carriage again. Amorette was in a foul temper and wanted nothing more than to clamber into the carriage and wrap Athos' cloak around her for warmth, but he had reached into the carriage for it and given it to her sister instead. Oh what a fool she had been. Amorette knew that Ann was beautiful, but she had not expected Athos to fall for those charms. He was too sensible for things like that. But Amorette had introduced her closest friend to her long lost sister and in one afternoon she had lost him completely. Athos didn't look at Amorette like that, he didn't laugh with Amorette like that. Amorette said a disgruntled good-bye to Ann and climbed into the carriage and the door thudded closed behind her. Athos and Ann stood talking, and Amorette watched as Ann's hand rested on his arm. The strangest thing was, he didn't pull away. Amorette kicked the seat in front of her in frustration. How could she have thought she could compete with Ann?_

 _ **One arc of the story is concluded, onto the next!**_


	7. Chapter 7

_**I only own Amorette and her family.**_

Her own panting breath in her ears, with her body flat against the horse's neck to gain speed, Amorette felt her heart in her mouth as her steed wound in and out of the beech trees haphazardly. She didn't know how long she had been followed for, but was sure that she had lost them now. She was glad of it not just for her own safety from whoever it was that followed her but also from the movement of the horse. Baxter had grown tired from their chase and wasn't as alert as she needed him to be. Crashing head-long into a tree was not how Amorette had imagined dying so she pulled on the reigns and dug her knees in a little. Baxter slowed to a gentle canter down a steep slope and Amorette looked all around her into the dense woodland in search of her followers. The eerie silence would have been overwhelming had Amorette's ears not been flooded with the sounds of her own heartbeat and her frantic breath.

There was no sign of anyone else around her, but Amorette knew her pursuers could still be in the forest somewhere. She let out a long relieved breath and sat up in her saddle just in time to see the bundle at the bottom of the slope that her horse was about to trample upon. Letting out a yelp, Amorette gripped the reigns as tightly as she could and pulled. Baxter reared on his hind legs and Amorette dug her knees in with all of her might, just managing to stay upon the horse. Baxter's front hooves landed with heavy thuds just short of the bundle and for a few seconds Amorette didn't move. There was no doubt in her mind that the bundle was a body, but alive or dead it could be a trap. As Baxter stirred uneasily, Amorette waited for a few seconds before gingerly dismounting and slowly edging towards the body. The distinct sound of a twig snapping had Amorette whirling around in every direction but there was no one to be seen. She approached the body on the ground again and bent to pull away the thick leather cloak that it was wrapped in. Immediately Amorette jumped back with a hand covering her mouth to muffle her scream. The man's throat had been cut and his brown eyes stared unmoving into the canopy of leaves above them. Amorette's hand shot out to the side reaching for Baxter's reigns but she couldn't take her eyes off the body before her. There was a necklace around the man's neck, the pendant hidden slightly by the lapel of his doublet but something about the chain was strikingly familiar to Amorette. She took a deep breath and took a step closer, her arm outstretched to snag the chain and pull the pendant free.

"I wouldn't touch that if I were you!" Amorette halted mid-step, a gasp escaping her lips. She had not heard anyone approaching her and chided herself for paying so little attention. Not knowing what to expect, she began to turn around ever so slowly, her hand shooting out blindly to search for Baxter's reigns again. Stood behind Amorette were four men, and when she caught sight of them she let her shoulders fall in relief. She felt the beginnings of tears prick at her eyes and knew that she had never been so happy to see a face that she knew. Immediately she reached up and pulled her hood down and Athos, Porthos, D'artagnan and Aramis lowered their pistols instantly.

"Cometess Are you alright?" asked Aramis as he marched towards her. He pulled out a handkerchief when he reached her.

"Yes! Yes I'm alright but he's not!" Amorette flapped her hands, gesturing towards the man on the ground before taking the offered handkerchief and dabbing at her wet cheeks.

"What happened here?" asked Athos unemotionally from where he stood, several feet from her.

"I d…don't know!" Amorette managed to choke out between sobs as Aramis moved behind her to take a closer look at the body. "I've just found him like this. My horse nearly t… trod all over him! Oh I'm so bloody foolish for getting lost and I thought I was being followed and…"

"It's alright Mademoiselle," came Aramis' soothing voice behind her as he gripped her shoulder with his gloved hand. "We'll get you back on the road to wherever it is that you're going."

Porthos and D'artagnan joined Aramis around the body, but Athos stopped in front of Amorette. "Where is it that you were on your way to? Were you intending to visit your cousin Charles?"

Amorette couldn't help the sob that escaped her at the mention of her cousin. She shook her head for a few seconds before she could bring herself to speak again. "I was…The mag…I was trying to find my way to the nearest town… to fetch the magistrate-"

"You're hurt?" Athos was stood so close to her that when she brought Aramis' handkerchief to her wet cheek again he spotted her blood-stained hands.

"It's not my blood! Charles is dead!" Amorette cried.

"WHAT?"

When they dismounted outside the garrison in the nearest town to find the magistrate, Amorette was immediately almost knocked off her feet by Baxter who was moving around uneasily. "The horse is still spooked. Maybe I should stay here?"

Athos nodded and kept walking, but Porthos stayed close by. "Shhh Baxter. It's okay boy."

"Baxter?" Porthos queried as Amorette stroked her horse's main, all too aware that her hands shook violently as she did so.

"He was bred in England," muttered Amorette. She turned to watch Porthos as a look of understanding crossed his face before he too brought his hand up to gently stroke the horse.

When the other three musketeers returned they brought with them another group of five musketeers and other men not clad in the regimental uniform that Amorette guessed were the magistrate's men. Without a word the local men moved off in the direction of the edge of the town. "Should we follow?" asked D'artagnan.

"Let's tarry a little and fetch the Mademoiselle a stiff drink first," Porthos muttered as he still stroked Baxter's long face.

Arriving in the courtyard of an inn, Baxter seemed far more relaxed when led into the stables with the other horses. Amorette was still unsure about leaving him but she was left with little choice when Aramis gripped her elbow and led her into the inn. Athos led the way to a table towards the back of the room and as Aramis passed the bar he addressed the proprietor, "Monsieur a bottle of your strongest brandy and if you could spare a bowl of warm water and some cloth that would be appreciated." The man nodded and Aramis followed the others, leading Amorette through a throng of locals who unashamedly stared at the newcomers. Amorette really did wish she had stayed in the stables with Baxter.

There was silence between the group as they all settled at a table in the corner of the crowded room. Only when the brandy arrived with a bowl of warm water did anyone speak. Aramis placed the water in front of Amorette and said "Here, for your hands." Amorette gladly dipped the tips of her pale fingers into the clean water to test the temperature and finding it to be luke-warm, she slid her whole hands in and began wash the blood from them.

Athos leaned in towards Amorette, with his elbows on the table as Porthos who sat on her left poured the brandy. "Tell us what happened."

Amorette lifted her tired eyes from her now clean hands to look into the sapphire-like orbs that observed her intently. Amorette took a deep breath as she pondered where to begin and felt the anticipation around the table. "I've been in England for a year or so, I left shortly after our last meeting; the whole debacle with the Du Leroux's. I came back to visit Charles as his wife was with child again. I'd not seen my younger cousins for some time." Amorette paused as she thought of Charles' young children and just how long ago she had seen them. There was an awkward silence around the table as the musketeers tried to guess what it was she was about to tell them. "When I got to the house it was very quiet. The door was open and I entered in search of the family. I was expected, and it's not unusual for Charles to play pranks so I thought perhaps he had hidden upstairs with the children to jump out and try to spook me. I thought to play along a little, so I wandered through the downstairs rooms and called out for everyone. After a while though I knew I should check upstairs." Amorette stopped to catch her breath as she tried to banish the visions of just what she had found in her cousin's home earlier that morning. A voice behind her distracted her though. Turning, she caught sight of two men at a nearby table talking in hushed tones.

"What is it?" asked Aramis from her right.

Amorette shook her head as she gazed at the men, sure that she did not recognise them. "Nothing," she muttered, "I just thought I recognised a name that they mentioned that's all." Amorette gave up the thoughts of the Italian name she had thought that she heard spoken and turned back to find four pairs of eyes trained on her.

"You were saying?" Athos' raised eyebrows told Amorette he was keen to hear the end of the story soon and she was only too eager to oblige.

"When I went upstairs I knew that something was wrong straight away. Things were out of place and a set of curtains had been torn to shreds. I went to Charles' room first…" Amorette felt her voice dry up as she tried so hard not to stumble upon her words, "Charles and his wife were dead when I found them. Th…they had…throats…they're throats…had been cut!" Amorette grabbed the glass of brandy in front of her and began to gulp it down so that she didn't have to look at the four shocked faces around the table. The atmosphere had changed drastically and when her glass was empty Amorette had no choice but to place it back on the table and look up into the disturbed stare of Athos.

Athos leaned in across the table and took hold of her wrist. The turmoil in his stormy blue eyes almost had Amorette shrinking back into her seat. "The children?" he rasped. Amorette brought her free hand up to cover her mouth and shook her head. The tears Amorette had managed to keep at bay now began to roll down her cheeks.

For a few moments there was silence as the news was digested around the table. Amorette tried to wipe her tears away with the sleeve of her free hand. Athos had paled a little at the news and Amorette could clearly see a vein in his temple pulsing. When he next spoke he was not able to disguise the anger completely from his voice. "And you didn't see anyone near the house? Even on your journey towards it? What about the man's body we came across in the woodland? Do you recognise him?"

Again Amorette shook her head, but the blue orbs weren't satisfied with her answer. "I'm almost certain that I've never seen that man we found on the road before, but the chain around his neck seemed familiar, I can't be sure though, maybe I'm wrong. Whoever it was that ended those lives; they can't have been gone for very long before I arrived-"

"What makes you think that?" interrupted Porthos.

"I was followed, so they must have been close enough to watch me leave the house."

Amorette heard Aramis sigh from beside her. "Mademoiselle we cannot be sure, but that could very well have been us that you thought to be following you."

"It's not just that though." Amorette felt her stomach turn as she remembered how she had come upon the children in their nursery, and of how they could have been peacefully sleeping. "The children; when I found them I tried to help…they were still warm to the touch…I thought they were still alive!" Amorette's last words were followed by a sob as she cried in earnest. Athos grip of her wrist increased and Aramis abandoned all pretence and placed his arm around her shoulders, drawing her into his side.

Once she had started to cry, Amorette found that she could not stop and was grateful for the reassurance of Aramis' strong arm around her. She was able to shield her face slightly from the others as they talked amongst themselves of how to go about dealing with the situation at hand. At length Amorette felt her tears begin to dry up and she pulled away from Aramis gently, again wiping her cheeks with her sleeve ends. With her movement the conversation had halted and Amorette suddenly felt very uncomfortable. The fact that they thought their conversation too upsetting for her caused Amorette to question everything that had happened that day even more. Just why had someone wanted to end her cousin's life in such a way?

Amorette sipped another glass of brandy and tried to block out the loud conversation and laughter that surrounded them in the room whilst the musketeers discussed their next move. They had already decided to wait until the magistrate had sent word that they had completed their search and investigation of the house and had removed Charles and his family's bodies before carrying out their own investigation.

"Don't you all have your own business to be about though?" asked Amorette. "What was it that brought you to the area?"

"Actually, our business is concluded, "Aramis said. "We were accompanying a rather important political figure to Châtre. Let's just say that he's ruffled a few feathers in his time, and the king felt it necessary for this gentleman to be placed under the king's protection-"

"This means," interrupted Athos as he fixed Amorette with a pointed look, "that the gentleman's safety became our responsibility. That undertaking is concluded now as Aramis said. We were heading back to Paris when we came across you Mademoiselle. Did you know that you were almost upon the main thoroughfare north?" Amorette shook her head. "Even had we not yet concluded our business, I do not think a single one of us would be happy to leave you in this predicament."

"To come across a friend of ours, man or woman; in such a manner and to abandon them without offering our assistance which might well be needed goes against everything that we believe in," said Porthos.

"Regardless of all that" continued Athos, "Charles was a friend to me once. I cannot claim the emotional connection of family, but I still wish to ascertain just what has happened." Amorette nodded; secretly glad of the help. She did not know how she would be able to face returning to the house alone after what she had found there that morning. "The magistrate may be some time though. Perhaps Mademoiselle you would like to rest here for a while? We can return to the house tomorrow if you wish to?" Despite its gruffness Amorette heard the sincerity in his tone.

Amorette shook her head vigorously. "No! No I'd much rather get it over with today if it's possible. I'm not sure that I'll be able to face it tomorrow."

All four men nodded their agreement and decided to leave once they had been sent word by the local magistrate.

When they eventually did venture back towards the house that day, it was with great apprehension. Despite reassurances from the magistrate's man that the house had been thoroughly searched and cleared, Amorette still couldn't shake the feeling that crossing that threshold again was a very bad idea. She knew that her uncomfortable feelings had taken a toll on the four musketeers who were riding with her and as they reached the lane that would soon open out onto her cousin's land Amorette slowed her horse to a gentle canter. Amorette directed their vision with a pointed finger to the remains of an old hunting lodge and an even older fort that seemed as if they had grown up out of the landscape.

"The old remains were what persuaded my uncle to purchase this land. I think he thought making the land his own would make all of the history of this place his own too." The only man to show it any attention though was Athos. Porthos, D'artagnan and Aramis were gazing at the magnificent château that her uncle had built at the end of the carriageway. Amorette supposed that the effect was lost on Athos and herself because they had made this journey along the tree lined carriageway to the great house many times throughout their lives.

"When you mentioned a house I thought perhaps we were to expect something like the one that you yourself own Madame, not a grand château!" Aramis cried from the back of the group. Amorette might have chuckled at the look of shock upon Aramis' face if she had not been in such a sombre mood. Instead she gave him a small smile and cantered on, leading them to the front of the house where a large water feature trickling water into a small pond made the carriageway directly before the house a circular parcel of gravel. Before Amorette had even dismounted all four musketeers had produced weapons and held them aloft as they advanced towards the house. Amorette found the action a little strange as the magistrate's men had already been to the house and searched it. Surely if there was someone still hiding within the house they would have been found, or made their own escape by now. She didn't have the energy to argue her point though and instead she silently brought up the rear of the group as they entered the house.

In the hallway all five stood silently. For a few moments they simply listened for any unusual sounds. Amorette's sight caught on the large staircase that led to the upper floor. Despite knowing that the house was now empty, the strange niggling thought that someone or something could be hiding just beyond their line of sight on the upper floors had Amorette slightly overwhelmed. She forced herself to look away from the stairs and around the room that they currently stood in. To Amorette nothing seemed out of place. It hadn't when she had first arrived that morning. She had walked the halls of many grand houses in her short life, but Amorette had never known one to change as little as her cousin Charles' home. She could have been eight years old again, chasing Charles through the corridors and halls as they tried to avoid damaging priceless family heirlooms that still sat in their rightful places in the château at that very moment. Pulling her mind back to the present, Amorette turned to find all four musketeers watching her intently. Amorette felt as though she were almost a rabbit caught in a trap with the eyes of the hunter upon her. She turned her own gaze away from them and tried to shake off the eerie feeling that the château now held. "We know this house Athos. We know its hiding places and its secrets." Amorette turned to Athos beside her to find him staring out at the room before them.

"Not all of its secrets," he muttered.

Amorette shook her head lightly. "No not all of its secrets. I dare say there are many that we have yet to uncover."

"Servants?" muttered Aramis suddenly, as if the thought had only just crossed his mind. "Where are the servants?"

"That's why I came in the first place," said Amorette with a pointed look at Athos. "You know what Charles was like. His own self-importance came before everything else. There was some nasty business with the household staff some time ago. I only have an understanding of it through letters, but the staff had been campaigning for a fairer wage. I understood that their work; whether intentionally or not, did suffer for it. Charles asked them all to leave and thought he could employ others from the local towns that would be glad of the wage. Word had spread though. No one wanted to work for the family after that. Even the midwife had to be poached from miles away, there was in fact a fear that she might not arrive on time. I suppose I shall have to try and get word to her at some point that she's no longer needed. I came to offer help. I thought I could keep the other children occupied at least, and give Charles and his wife some space."

Athos shook his head with a roll of the eyes. "Charles always was a little rash when it came to people of a lower station. He probably didn't mean much harm by it, but he was rather set in his ways."

"Yes he was." Amorette said. "You'll find that some of the rooms have been closed up. I think Charles was more charmed by the notion of only using the rooms that they needed instead of having to figure out a way to have all of them cleaned himself. A lot of the furniture was covered too. Those rooms upstairs don't appear to have been touched; just the main bedrooms. I don't know what else we can hope to find." Amorette's gaze flitted backwards and forwards between the musketeers and the staircase as she spoke.

They all seemed to have sensed her apprehension about the upper floors. "D'artagnan, you and Mademoiselle Amorette will take this floor," said Athos. If I recall correctly, this floor has less rooms. They are larger and there is therefore less space to cover. Porthos, Aramis and I will search the upper floors."

Porthos had already moved in the direction of the staircase when Amorette spoke. "What about the cellar?"

"Let's meet back here and venture down together," said Athos. "I'd rather not be more than one staircase apart just in case. With that he and Aramis moved off and Amorette watched as they brought their weapons to chest height as they rounded a corner on the staircase and disappeared from view. For a few seconds Amorette simply watched, listening for any unexpected sounds.

"Mademoiselle shall we make a start?" Amorette jumped and spun around, but sighed with relief almost instantly. She had forgotten that D'artagnan was still with her in the hallway.

"All of these rooms on this floor lead onto one another through doors or passageways anyway," said Amorette as she conjured up some courage and strode towards a doorway. Crossing the threshold Amorette found herself in a very familiar room. They were standing in a small parlour that the family used rather informally when there were no visitors staying. The only apparent change was a lightening of décor. Amorette recalled that the room had been much darker in her uncle's lifetime. The furniture and portraits remained unchanged though and the room was clean and tidy; exactly as the family had left it. D'artagnan approached a large dresser and began to check the contents of the drawers whilst Amorette caught sight of a metallic glint under one of the couches. Crouching down beside it, Amorette apprehensively lowered her head until she came across a small thimble lying upon a rug.

"What is it?" D'artagnan asked from the other side of the couch. Amorette reached underneath the velvet upholstered furniture and produced it. In her mind's eye she saw Charles' wife Lucinda being pestered by her two children as she tried to darn an old shirt and the thimble rolling under the couch as she stood to rather unsuccessfully chase the children whilst hindered by her large pregnant belly. Standing to her full height again, Amorette looked about the room until her eyes landed upon an old sewing box in the corner. Amorette lifted the lid and placed the thimble within the folds of some ivory muslin. When she turned back to the room again D'artagnan threw her a sympathetic smile and moved on towards another door. Together they searched the family dining room, and a far larger dining room that was used for hosting guests. To Amorette nothing seemed out of place in the slightest. After searching through a formal parlour that was also for receiving guests, D'artagnan led the way into a smaller room that was lined with book cases and was home to a large mahogany desk. D'artagnan was rifling through the desk drawers before he realised that Amorette still stood in the doorway.

"Sorry, I was never a fan of this room." Amorette grimaced as a shiver ran down her spine and she wrapped her arms around herself.

Smiling gently at her, D'artagnan moved towards an armchair by the fire that was draped with what looked like Charles' paperwork. "Why don't you go through to the next room then? I'll catch you up," he said.

Amorette nodded and dashed through the room towards the opposite wall to push against the side of one panelling of bookcase and as it swung open before her, a passageway was revealed. She missed D'artagnan's look of surprise as she threw herself into the passageway and let the door swing closed behind her. The aromatic perfume of book paper and the leather of the chair should have enticed Amorette, who was an overly keen reader and adored her father's library in England but instead she was repulsed. Long buried memories of what had once been her uncle Phillipe's study almost resurfaced. Admittedly, the room was lighter; with different curtains presenting a wonderful view of the old fort ruins through the windows and years of sweet smelling candles and Lucinda's fresh perfumes had softened the smell a bit but Amorette still couldn't get past the memories of the few times that she had been permitted entrance to the room as a child. It was usually off limits to both children and adults alike and no one was quite sure just what Phillipe got up to in his secluded library. On very rare occasions though, her uncle had invited Amorette into his hideaway, the air had always been thick with tobacco smoke and the atmosphere was even thicker. Amorette's fifteenth birthday had been the first time she recalled venturing into the room, and she shuddered. Forcing herself to think of the matter at hand Amorette followed the passageway, around corners and down a small flight of steps and was met by two sets of grand double doors. Amorette knew very well that she was in the presence chamber, and that one doorway to her right led back into the hallway. The other doorway in front of her opened into the great hall. Amorette's worn riding boots slapped the old flagstones as she approached the doors and threw them open.

Stepping out onto a balcony that overlooked the whole hall, Amorette couldn't help but smile. She clattered down the staircase onto the marble floor and spun herself around as her dress fanned out around her. Amorette spun until she was so dizzy that she thought she might fall over. Bringing herself to a stop she took in the room which ran the length of the whole side of the house and its south facing windows. The gallery; where an orchestra had once played now lay empty except for a few pieces of sheet music littered about here and there and on the left, many archways led to a more secluded seating area draped with venetian silk. All at once, Amorette was plunged back into the past to an evening long ago.

 _The clatter of heeled slippers ceased along with the music as the dance ended, and Amorette fell about laughing with her group of friends. One young man had stolen another's hat during the dance and was attempting to make an escape though a throng of people with it. Amorette and her group of friends moved as one, laughing heartily at the feathered cap that wafted about above the heads of the crowd. At length the hat stealer; English Gentleman George Villiers was caught up with. His Scottish companion Henry Fitzgerald snatched his hat back and presented it to the group amid rounds of mocking applause. "I think hats aren't the only thing you'll be stealing tonight George!" Amorette cried. There was more laughing and wolf-whistling as Amorette pointed towards the far wall where two of her distant cousins by marriage sat. The two girls were rather quiet, and tended to stay within earshot of their parents whilst in large groups and had yet to integrate themselves amongst the younger crowd._

" _My dear Cometess you know that your heart is the only one I plan on stealing this evening!" George Villiers cried as he quickly moved to her side and placed an arm around her shoulders._

 _More laughs ensued as Franc La Belisle stepped up and threw his arm around Amorette's other shoulder. "Always healthy to have a bit of competition Villiers!" He looked pointedly at George before laughing heartily. As they all laughed and joked again Charles emerged from a band of young men._

" _Now now Messieurs. I'm afraid no matter how gallant your efforts are, this Mademoiselle's already got someone lined up to capture her heart!"_

 _Amorette gave Charles a distasteful look as George piped up again. "Monsieur Du Guillory, you underestimate my charms. Your dear cousin will be enraptured by me before she knows it!" There were many guffaws within the group and Fitzgerald gave George an appreciative pat on the shoulder._

" _I truly am sorry to break it to you Villiers but as I said, Mademoiselle has already set her sights upon a gentleman and I do thoroughly believe that she is not for the turning despite my copious efforts. I do not believe her love could even waver for one night," Charles said. Amorette felt a slight twitch in her palm as a need to slap her cousin round the face raised its head. The other boys within the group began to tease George as Charles leaned in closer to Amorette and whispered "even if said gentleman is not even here!"_

 _Charles slipped away with nothing more than a pair of raised eyebrows towards Amorette and she balled her hands into fists, watching her cousin's retreating back. George Villiers was now standing a few yards away, but Franc's arm was still around her shoulder. Amorette turned to find him looking at her incredulously. "Come on Amorette," he whispered, "Who is this man who has so gallantly stolen your heart? You can tell me, you know I won't speak of it to anyone else."_

 _Amorette smiled at him gently and shook his arm from her shoulder. "Franc I know you wouldn't tell anyone, but that doesn't mean its information that I want to disclose. It's my secret to keep and besides, you don't even know him," Amorette lied, "And he hasn't stolen my heart; he's just piqued my interest. Look how many Mademoiselles that you boys set your sights on and then three days later you've moved on to someone else! Honestly, it's nothing of importance."_

 _Franc didn't appear to believe Amorette's lies but he didn't get the chance to respond. George had taken Charles' distraction of conversation as a chance to steal Henry Fitzgerald's hat from his head and sped off towards the other end of the room. Franc grabbed Amorette's hand and she let out a yelp as Franc took off after their friends, dragging her behind him. A peal of laughter tore from Amorette's throat as the hat was waved in the air above their heads again._

 _A while later, when the group had almost doubled due to the addition of some young Mademoiselles flirting outrageously with George Villiers; Amorette extracted herself from the group and walked in the direction of Charles who was now standing in an alcove at the side of the room, nursing a glass of wine. "You know those friends of yours will really need to learn some decorum in a year or two. We can't all stay young forever!" Charles cried as Amorette drew near. For a while Amorette said nothing, and they simply watched the splendour of the ball from their little alcove._

" _Charles I wish you wouldn't say such things in front of my friends," she said after a while._

 _Her cousin surprised her by slipping his arm around her shoulders and hugging her to his side. "Relax little one, they are all too drunk to remember any of it. Even if they weren't, little Buckingham's antics will have rendered any of my comments completely forgettable. I heard tell earlier that he was planning a dip in the lake later on after the festivities, so if I were you I'd get to bed before they can drag you out with them!" Amorette began to chuckle as she imagined her friends diving into the freezing cold lake fully clothed. "So," continued Charles, "Just where is Athos? I thought you said he was coming tonight? That'll be two parties he's missed, my wedding and my birthday. I must confess I feel quite let down!"_

" _He'll be back for my birthday though!" Amorette gave her cousin a triumphant look as he shook his head, bemused. "And don't call George 'Little Buckingham'. He doesn't like it."_

" _He is the Duke of Buckingham's heir, that nickname is fair. I don't doubt that Athos will return for your birthday! Perhaps this time you should not show your hand so openly little cousin. Treat Athos as if he barely exists instead of fanning over him. Perhaps then he may realise your feelings for him. Or better still; bestow your interest upon someone else entirely! Look at the little gaggle of friends that you always have trailing around after you. I think one of those young gentlemen would do the job quite well, and they are nearer in age to you. You know, perhaps if you didn't dismiss them straight away you might actually grow to care for one of them. They are all significantly better off than Athos too, although I know money never was your motivation."_

" _Oh Charles…" Amorette sighed. "I couldn't marry one of them. I love them dearly, but I'm far more mature than I feel that any of them will ever be. And they are a bunch of rakes! As their friend I am safe, but as a wife I would thoroughly expect every single one of them to take as many mistresses as they saw fit. Athos isn't like that, you aren't either but you are out of the question now! Yet again I'll bring up the pact that we made years ago, that if you reached the age of five and twenty unmarried, that we would marry each other. You were twenty six when you met Lucinda! I gave you more credit than that Charles. Now I am left high and dry, with a love for a man who will likely never look at me the same way. I think I shall become a spinster!"_

" _I've told you before Amorette that I didn't really mean for that pact to come into effect. You're still very young you know. You have plenty of time to have your heart broken five times over and fall in love with an honest man. Why can't you just wait a while? Put Athos from your head and look around you! I see your point about your friends, but there are plenty of other eligible young men who would see you right. I would recommend some of my friends to you if only you'd let me!"_

" _But they aren't Athos!" Amorette all but snarled._

" _I give up," Charles muttered. "I'm off to find my wife! And don't drink any more wine please; we don't need to have the servants put you to bed!"_

 _Before Charles could turn and walk away, Amorette grabbed Charles' goblet of wine and drank it all in protestation. She turned and stormed off, grabbing another goblet of wine from a table as she went. Amorette thought she heard a distinct "Oh for God's sake!" from her cousin as she skipped up the staircase onto the balcony and out into the presence chamber. Amorette wandered out into the hallway, passing one or two people on the way. Just as she contemplated climbing the stairs to go to bed early, one of her distant cousins that she had spotted earlier came running from her uncle's study with a perplexed look on her face._

" _Selina? Selina?" Amorette continued to call out to the girl as she disappeared inside the presence chamber again. Amorette thought to follow, but before she turned around something else caught her eye. There was her uncle Phillipe stood in the doorway of the study, watching her. He gestured with his hand for Amorette to go to him. A knot tightened in her stomach and Amorette wanted nothing more than to go anywhere else but her uncle's study, but she knew that she daren't refuse him. Ever so slowly, Amorette began to place one foot in front of the other across the hallway, until she stood just a foot from her Uncle. He smiled down at her as if he knew of her inner turmoil. Swiftly he moved so that he no longer blocked passageway through into the study and held out his hand to her, and Amorette knew that she had no choice but to follow him._

"Find anything?"

A voice permeated her thoughts just at the right time. Amorette turned to find Athos behind her on the stairs. She took one more glance back at the ballroom before retracing her steps to the bottom of the stairs. Athos held out a gloved hand to help her up. "Only memories," said Amorette as she placed her hand in his.


	8. Chapter 8

_**In which a friendship is forged.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

The cellar was cold and dark compared to the rest of the château. The only room with any windows to let some of the last remaining daylight trickle in was the vast kitchens. The group of five congregated around an old a very worn oak table in the middle of the room. Amorette and D'artagnan had found nothing of consequence in the downstairs rooms and the same could be said for the others. Now, they were all trying to decipher what to do next. Amorette's eyes caught on the burn marks and knife indents of the old table in front of her as she zoned out of the conversation. Many times she had engraved her name into this table with a sharp object as a child but there was no trace of the markings now. They had all been chipped away. She wondered vaguely if that had been requested by her uncle. Suddenly she was sorely tempted to get onto her hands and knees to check the underside of the great table to check for markings. Amorette resisted though. She pushed the table and it's markings from her thoughts and looked back up to find all four musketeers looking at her. "Sorry?" Amorette questioned, realising only too late that one of them had asked her something.

At once they all donned sympathetic smiles. "We were asking who it was that you travelled here with." Aramis murmured from the opposite side of the table.

"My companion Elise and her husband John," confirmed Amorette. "But only as far as Provins. They were in England with me for a time and wanted to visit family whilst we were back in France. It seemed only logical to me to leave them with family and travel on here." Amorette watched a notion of irritation flicker across Athos' face for a second before it was gone again. She braced herself for a lecture about traveling alone but it never came. Athos seemed to have thought better of it due to the current situation.

"Staying with them tonight is out of the question then," muttered Aramis. "We'll have to head back to the inn soon if we want to be sure of getting rooms for the night. Why don't we leave now and carry on our search tomorrow morning?"

Amorette's head whipped around to look at him. The thoughts of having to muster up the courage to come back to the house all over again the next day terrified her. "Or we could stay here?" she suggested. Amorette turned and dashed to the larder behind her and was met with the sight of some fresh meat and vegetables. "There's not a great variety of food but there's enough to do something with it, and I don't need to check the wine cellar to know that there will be wine. There's more than enough room for us all."

"I suppose that would be more beneficial for us," nodded Athos, "But if you'd rather not stay the night Mademoiselle then we will certainly retreat to the village."

"Actually…" Amorette almost lost her train of thought as she realised that she would indeed be uncomfortable staying in the house overnight, but the thought of being able to leave it tomorrow and never return outweighed that. "I'd rather do what we need to do and then leave knowing I don't have to come back."

"That's settled then," Porthos said as he threw his arms wide.

Athos, Aramis and D'artagnan nodded their agreement. "Let's check these cellar passageways before we do anything else though," suggested D'artagnan and moved towards the doorway.

"I'll stay here," said Porthos, nodding towards Amorette as he removed his doublet and slipped it onto the back of a chair. He perched on the edge of the table as Athos and Aramis followed D'artagnan out of the room. Amorette retreated to the larder again and brought the food out with her. After that she walked the length of the room in search of a large cooking pot. Finding one, she began to make her way back across the room towards the stove. Amorette came to an abrupt halt as she passed the table again when a memory stirred in her mind. Setting the pot on the table, Amorette crouched down to look at the underside of the table-top. More markings had been chipped away from there as well. Amorette followed the grain of wood to the very edge where the joins of the table leg and table-top met and sure enough, in the very corner there was a marking that had been missed entirely. "What is it?" Porthos asked from behind her.

Amorette moved to her left a little so that Porthos was able to crouch beside her. Pointing to the wooden carving of her own name, Amorette turned to smile at him. "For a long time I've known that my uncle tried to eradicate any history of my being in this house, it seems that he failed."

A chill had descended upon the chateau within an hour or two of the sun going down. Amorette had decided that the best use of the food she had found would be a stew of sorts. "It's nothing much. I simply used what I could find," said Amorette as she placed the steaming pot of stew on the table and everyone ladled their own portions into bowls. They ate in silence, seated along the wooden benches that surrounded the table and Amorette's thoughts were drawn back to that morning when she had found the body of the man on the road. She was unsure of just what his part was in all of this, but Amorette knew that his death, mere miles away and in the same fashion as her cousin's was no coincidence. She pushed the dregs of her simple stew around the bowl as her appetite vanished.

"For being 'nothing special' that was pretty good!" Porthos announced as he presented an empty bowl. Amorette smiled her thanks and pushed her own away slightly. When everyone else had finished eating and the fire had been doused with a bucket of cold water they all retreated upstairs. Stepping into the hallway again, the drop in temperature was pronounced with five sharp intakes of breath. Amorette would have much preferred to stay in the cosy kitchen in the cellar but the musketeers had expressed their apprehension of such a plan and their want of a position in which they could see the road leading to the house through a window; and so they found themselves on the way to a small dining room. Amorette couldn't understand what the musketeers hoped to see as she stared out at the inky black sky beyond the house but with all four men in agreement she would have felt rather foolish in arguing. With a fire newly lit and candles burning everyone began to settle into seats around the table. Athos approached a sideboard and began searching cupboards.

"It's over there." Amorette muttered with a gesture of her hand towards a large cabinet against the wall. Not needing to ask what it was he had been searching for, Amorette was not surprised when after a few seconds the thud of a decanter hitting the table surface came to her ears followed by fine crystal glasses. Still standing in the middle of the room, Amorette's gaze landed on the portrait hanging above the fireplace. Just as Porthos, the last of the musketeers still standing began to pull out a chair a shiver ran down Amorette's spine. Pulling an old dust sheet from a chaise longue in the corner she approached the fireplace in full knowledge that she wasn't tall enough to be able to cover the portrait.

"Cover that up would you?" Amorette nodded towards the portrait and handed the dust sheet to Porthos. "We don't need him staring down at us!"

"Who is he?" Porthos asked curiously as he gently draped the painting.

"My great uncle Schubert... " Amorette turned back to the table to find Athos pouring brandy. "Odious man!" she added as an afterthought.

"He was Charles' grandfather?" Athos asked. "I don't believe I ever met him."

"But surely-" For a few seconds Amorette was lost in her thoughts. "Oh sorry, I keep forgetting that you weren't at Charles' wedding. Those days all seem to blur into one lengthy memory now. You should count yourself among the lucky then, never to have met him."

A harmonized "why?" from D'artagnan and Aramis had Amorette cursing herself for even bringing the portrait up in the first instance. Her male relatives and their misdemeanours were not something she was desperate to discuss.

Sighing heavily she began. "My father and great uncle Shubert never really saw eye to eye which if I'm honest, amused me greatly. Great uncle Shubert was Prussian and had barely learned French let alone English. He thought that English was an archaic and repulsive language and told my father so upon their first meeting. Thus a dislike was founded. Ironically it was just about the only thing my father and I could ever agree on. Uncle Shubert was not a pleasant man, and he was here very little but his influence was always discernible. He had harboured a certain affliction that he passed onto his son Phillipe, who was Charles' father." When all four men continued to look at her blankly she was forced to expand her explanation. "Both great uncle Shubert and uncle Phillipe had a terrible case of wandering hands where young women were concerned." As comprehension dawned upon their faces Amorette was suddenly aware that the topic of conversation put her forward for some unpleasant interrogation and so before the musketeers had a chance to dwell upon anything that she had said, she swiftly changed the subject. "What about the man we found on the road this morning? I cannot get it out of my head that I've seen that chain around his neck before."

"If you think the necklace belonged to the family than perhaps we need to consider a robbery? Perhaps he came upon the house after the incident and thought it ripe for pickings," mused D'artagnan. "Or perhaps he was involved in the incident and for some unknown reason his companions had him killed."

For a few moments there was silence as everyone contemplated the fate of the man on the road. Amorette couldn't fathom how they were going to find out just what had happened in this house and the thought began to overwhelm her as the conversation left her behind. A growing knot in her stomach had Amorette worrying that perhaps she wasn't destined to find out what had befallen her cousin and his family and in a few days' time Athos and his friends would have a need to be elsewhere. What would she do then? Going about investigating Charles' death on her own would be impossible. Musketeers were highly trained and although they were not inquisitors they would have a knack for noticing the unusual and out of place. Amorette was just a socialite heiress. Her other friends were not a feasible option, as most of them were considerably well off in their own right and liked to throw their weight around. Throwing money and dropping names at a problem never did bring about a solution. Would Amorette want to face the solution of this problem though? Perhaps whatever had happened in this house really was better left buried. Making a decision alone, Amorette decided that if they had found nothing of consequence by the next evening then she would leave and never look back. She couldn't ask for the musketeers to extend their stay much farther beyond that, and the stark reality was that they were her best hope.

The dull murmur of conversation began to reach Amorette again and she pulled herself from her own thoughts. The glint of candlelight as it reflected off a glass lifted to lips had Amorette looking around the table. The decanter was empty and all four men were draining the dregs from their glasses. For a few minutes more there was small talk before Athos bid Amorette to follow him in hopes of finding her somewhere to sleep for the night. Climbing the stairs, Amorette's tired mind drifted to unlacing her corset and slipping into one of Lucinda's night shirts but as they rounded a corner on the staircase and were faced with a dark corridor, Amorette was reminded painfully of what had occurred in Lucinda's room. She would not be lending any of Lucinda's clothing for comfort purposes and she certainly wouldn't be removing any of hers in case the need arose for a hasty exit.

Candles held aloft, Amorette and Athos waited cautiously for the unknown. Amorette felt reassured when she looked to Athos and saw that he looked as uneasy as she felt. The bedroom doors were all closed and a sliver of moonlight from the windows at the end of the landing illuminated children's toys that littered the floor. A gentle breeze passed them as they watched the flames of the candles flicker slightly. "I can't stay up here!" Amorette blurted out as she took a step back towards the staircase.

Athos turned to her with a considerate glance and shook his head slightly. "And I wouldn't ask you to. But is there anything you need me to fetch?"

"I don't want anything from this house." They both turned and began to descend the staircase again, all too aware of the black abyss that they left in their wake. Amorette had to force herself not to glance back at the upper floor but as they reached the turn, her candlelight illuminated the bottom half of a portrait that hung on the wall above them and all thoughts of the upper rooms vanished. Before her was a portrait of her cousin Charles as a young man. Amorette recalled her cousin sitting for it shortly after he turned nineteen. It wasn't the charming young face or the artist's work that piqued her interest though. On his broad chest, Charles' counterpart wore a large pendant encrusted with Jade stones that was hanging from a thick gold chain.

"Mademoiselle?" Amorette shivered slightly as she felt Athos' breath on the back of her neck. He was standing right behind her but despite being on the step below her; somehow he still managed to tower over her.

Amorette pointed to the oil painted necklace before her. "That's it! That's the chain that I saw around the neck of the man on the road. Which means this was no robbery!"

"I'm sorry?" At the sound of his incredulous tone Amorette turned to face her old friend. "Surely it only serves to implode his guilt."

"No, let me show you!" The sound of the soles of Amorette's boots resounded throughout the large vestibule as she clattered down the stairs and dashed towards the library. Throwing open the door she approached the fireplace and waited for Athos to fall into line beside her. In her haste, Amorette had not realised that her candle had snuffed itself out. She leaned across to let the candle-wick meet the flame of Athos' candle and re-ignite it. They stood before a much larger portrait and of this one Amorette thought very little. It was not the artist's work that disgusted her as much as the model who had sat for it. Depicted there was her Uncle Phillipe and Amorette forced herself not to look towards the cold grey eyes that had once terrified her so much. Instead she mimicked her actions of a few seconds ago and pointed towards the jewellery that was depicted there. The same necklace depicted in the portrait of Charles could clearly be seen around her uncle Phillipe's neck. As soon as Amorette was sure that Athos had seen the link she turned on her heel and marched back into the hallway. The door to the dining room that the other musketeers still occupied stood ajar just enough for Amorette to slip through and Athos followed, letting the door swing open behind him. Without waiting for anyone to question her thought process, Amorette launched herself towards the fireplace and yanked the corner of the sheet that Porthos had used to cover the painting of her great-uncle.

As the sheet floated to the floor, Amorette searched the painting for the gold chain. It was there, albeit hidden by a thick fur collar that was draped around her great-uncle's neck. Amorette took a step backwards until she stood in line with Athos. "This was no robbery. That must be the family seal."

Athos nodded his agreement. "The man on the road was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. He must have stumbled upon the scene here much like you did Mademoiselle, and then taken the necklace as proof of his word when he raised the alarm."

"He got lost just like I did, too." Amorette concluded. For a few moments there was silence as they all contemplated just how much more sinister everything seemed after such a revelation.

Then D'artagnan broke the silence. "Which means that whoever did this can't have been very far from you when you were in that forest Mademoiselle Amorette. They may have been watching you from the moment you left the house."

"They could have been watching all of us," added Aramis gloomily.

"I know it's too dark to ride out now," mused Porthos, "And that we haven't figured out what happened here but I think we should leave at first light. This place is starting to give me the creeps. Maybe the magistrate's men will have found something out. We could pay them a visit."

The atmosphere in the room shifted a little as Amorette sensed that the other three musketeers probably whole heartedly agreed with Porthos, their words only silenced out of consideration for herself. "I agree with you," she muttered.

A confused expression crossed Athos face. "Don't you want to know what happened here?"

Amorette nodded soberly. "Yes I'd like to know what befell my cousin and his family but I'd rather not kill us all in pursuit of those answers. Porthos is right. Something really is amiss here and we don't know just how dangerous it is."

Amorette didn't remember falling asleep on the chaise longue in the dining room. When she woke to the dense darkness of the room she felt the warmth of a rug that had been draped over her and groaned a little as she realised how much her corset pinched her sides. Immediately she was aware of more than one presence in the room with her, but what caused her sharp intake of breath was the voices of the musketeers that resonated from another room down the hall. Immediately Amorette bolted upright as the rug slid to pool on the floor around her feet. Crying out for Athos, Amorette darted towards the sliver of light that was the slightly ajar door. Her actions were met with the sound of chairs being dragged backwards and heavy footfalls approaching the room. Just as Amorette reached for the door handle it slammed shut with such force that she was propelled back into the room slightly. Recovering herself Amorette reached for the door handle again and pulled with all her strength. Hitting the door with the palm of her hand she cried out for Athos again, all too aware of the terror in her voice as it was met with the apprehensive voices of the musketeers on the other side.

Suddenly something tightly gripped Amorette's throat and with a startled yelp she was thrust backwards into a body like stone. Forgetting about the raised voices on the other side of the door Amorette brought her hands up to try and prise the rope from her windpipe as panic began to set in. With every second that passed, Amorette pulled and kicked and fought in every which way as she gasped for breath. Just as she felt her limbs begin to grow tired of aiding her empty lungs, a large mass slammed into the door from the other side. The sound of splintering wood and shouting followed as Amorette plucked up the energy for one last kick. Her vision blurring and sound beginning to fade, Amorette swung her leg backwards hard, her diminished hearing missed the grunt that escaped her assailant that would have told her she had hit her mark. The first sensation Amorette was aware of was a sharp pain in her knees as they slammed into the hard wooden floor. Air flooded into her lungs as Amorette coughed and gasped. Slowly the dark room came into focus again enough for Amorette to ascertain that a fight was taking place. A severe popping sound brought her hearing back and she felt tears prick her eyes as the sound of shouting and loud musket fire invaded her mind. Before Amorette could search the room for anyone that she knew, she was lifted from the floor and slammed into a wall with enough force to knock the air from her lungs again. Amorette pushed and fought against another body of stone for a few seconds before she looked up and found Athos towering over her. Pressing her against the wall he watched the fight that ensued in the room over his shoulder but Amorette saw nothing over it as her forehead only reached Athos' chest.

Gulps of air subsided to erratic short breaths as they waited. Suddenly there was silence in the room. "Where the hell did they go?" Porthos growled. Athos pulled away slightly and Amorette stared into the gloom for a few seconds before her eyes adjusted to the light. Aramis, D'artagnan and Porthos were standing in the middle of the room gazing around themselves in bewilderment.

"Regardless of where they went we can be sure they're still in the house!" Aramis cried.

With a hand upon Amorette's shoulder Athos squeezed gently. "Are you alright?" Amorette looked up at him hesitantly. Not trusting herself to speak she simply nodded. For a few seconds Athos too looked bewildered. He appeared to have made a decision though and with his hand still resting on Amorette's shoulder he guided her towards the doorway. "Aramis, with me," he called as he gently pushed her across the hallway and out onto the porch. Their horses were still saddled and tied nearby and marching Amorette to hers he lifted her into the saddle. Aramis followed them into the cold night air and regarded Athos with a confused expression. "Take her to the inn in the village and stay there until daylight. If you think you're being followed fire two shots, we'll listen out for them."

Amorette glanced from one musketeer to another as Aramis mounted his own horse beside her. She was still shell-shocked and completely unsure about what was happening. A large part of her also didn't want to leave her old friend in that perilous house when an evil clearly haunted it. Before she could voice her concerns though, Aramis had grabbed the reins of her horse and pulled it around to face the road. With a last few careful words to Athos about keeping safe he brought their horses to a canter and Amorette couldn't even see Athos in the darkness as she looked back towards the house.

Fear enveloped the two riders as they made their way through the woodland. In the hours to come Amorette would not understand how Aramis had found his way in the darkness to the village leading her and two horses. In no time at all though, they were cantering into the stables at the inn. Wordlessly Amorette handed Aramis a pouch of coins and moved towards the open door before he could attempt to give them back. When they reached the bar Aramis tried to place the pouch back into her hand again. When Amorette spoke for the first time since the attack, her voice was raspy and small. "Use the money Aramis. Goodness knows this is my mess. I'm sure a musketeer's salary doesn't stretch to impromptu inn stays. I don't need the money and with it we can at least have decent rooms for the night." Amorette mused that in her voice there was a tone of finality and she knew that Aramis had heard it too. When the landlord approached the bar he delved into the pouch for some coins and requested the best rooms. Pouch a little lighter back in her hands Amorette let Aramis lead her upstairs and into a rather inviting room. A large four poster bed faced a small fire place where a fire still burned in the grate. The room was very small, but Amorette hadn't felt more at home in days.

She turned to find Aramis watching her from the doorway. "Will you be alright here on your own Mademoiselle?" He handed her one of her saddle bags and rested his hand on the door handle.

Amorette smiled at him as she let out a sigh of relief. "I'll be fine. I'm just glad to be away from that house."

"I'm just down the passageway," said Aramis as he closed the door gently and Amorette heard his footsteps as he moved down the hallway to his own room. She rushed towards the door and lowered the catch on the lock. Slipping out of her dress Amorette pulled a thick woollen shall from her bag and wrapped it around her shoulders. She crossed the cosy room to the window and climbed up onto the window seat. Outside a few men had gathered around the stable doorway. For a while Amorette watched as their number increased until there were at least twelve of them. Curiously she listened to their cries of "Ava amb la rei!" for a while, knowing that in the darkness they wouldn't be able to see her watching from the window.

She jumped up with a start when Aramis used his sword to unhook the latch from the outside and burst into the room some time later. "What are you doing?" she snarled as she pulled her shawl tighter to hide the top of her corset.

"Come away from the window," he gestured to her to move with one hand and Amorette noticed his pistol was held in the other. She shuffled away from the window seat as Aramis looked down on the men outside. "Sorry for the interruption Madam but I don't like the look of our Occitan speaking friends outside."

"There we go with the Madam again," Amorette muttered as she perched on the edge of the bed.

Aramis ignored her last comment. "I think perhaps we should occupy the same room for the evening just to be on the safe side."

"Are you really sure that's necessary?" Amorette gasped.

"I know it's not respectable or proper, but I've watched that group multiply considerably in just an hour and if they decide to invade the inn wouldn't you rather be in the room with the musketeer and his musket?"

Amorette glanced to his weapon again and begrudgingly saw his point. "I suppose you make a fair point." Amorette slid herself back until she lay in the middle of the bed and pulled the sheets up around her. Aramis crossed the room and tried to make himself comfortable on the long couch. "You know I'm far smaller than you, and I could probably lie completely straight on that couch. Wouldn't you be more comfortable if you took the bed?" Amorette offered.

Her offer was declined profusely by Aramis. He agreed with her that her lacking height might mean she would find the couch tolerably comfortable but he expressed a need for a clearer view of the window and door. Amorette could not have said that she expected any different from the musketeer and rolled over onto her side to try and get comfortable. The ruckus from outside only intensified as they both listened to the cries of "Ava amb la rei! Libertat despuòi la rei!"

"Do you know any of the language of the Languedoc Monsieur?" Amorette asked to the relative darkness.

"A little. You?" Aramis' voice sounded very alert for someone who had been through the same things that she had that day. Amorette was exhausted beyond reason, but something within her mind prevented sleep.

"A few phrases, but I can't make out what it is they are chanting outside."

Aramis sighed deeply before answering. "Ava amb la rei! _Down with the king!_ Libertat despuòi la rei! _Freedom from the king!_ "

"But that's treason!" Amorette sat up as she spoke, pulling the sheets with her. "Surely someone will hear them and report all of this."

With a glance out the window Aramis shook his head. "The people in this area are country people. They are clever enough to keep quiet and therefore they keep their homes and families safe. As long as they stand outside and chant I suppose they think that those men pose no harm. A group of what looks like fourteen men now could not invade Paris and overthrow the house of Bourbon on their own. They'd need a lot of help and out here in the middle of nowhere they aren't likely to find it. There will always be opposition to the crown Mademoiselle. We cannot persecute people just for having an opinion. The reality is they've had too much wine and the local magistrate may see fit to lock them away for a day or two. But the people in this village want a quiet life, and I'd say those fourteen men probably do too if they are honest with themselves."

There was silence for a few minutes before Amorette said "I cannot imagine France without a king."

"Reign is a tenuous thing," sighed Aramis. "There may come a time when the needs of France change and a monarchy is no longer viable. I don't believe that time will come within the near future. I admit it seems strange to think of the France we know without a monarchy but that is because we know of nothing else. We are not the people to think of such times though. I am a trained soldier fighting in the name of king and Queen. You Madam, are a young entitled woman with links to very old aristocratic families. You'd have experienced a very different education to me. I'm sure you had the pleasure of the finest tutors in France whose teachings favoured sovereignty. You and I are not people who would be expected to embrace a France without a monarch."

Amorette supposed that he was right, but to her it still seemed rather farfetched; imagining the France that she knew without a sovereign was extremely difficult. There was a system, one that had been in place for hundreds of years that to her mind worked very well. Granted, there would always be poverty-stricken people who saw the pomp and ceremony in a negative light. The extortionate rates of gold that some of her class threw away were sure to anger the lower classes who could barely afford to eat. Aramis watched her from across the room as she pondered what he had said. "It's pretty simple really. Think of it like you would a marriage. You would have been schooled to expect to make an advantageous match as a young woman. Whether you have or not is irrelevant, but as a child you would have looked upon matrimony as something alien. You would have expected it to strip you away from everything that you know and trust and drop you into a wholly different world, especially if you married a foreign gentleman."

"I still think of it like that," chuckled Amorette.

"But that's because it's all you've known. I'm sure you remember older cousins and friends getting married, and were witness to their fear of the unknown. That's the thing; some people strike it lucky and somehow fall into this sort of agreeability with each other. Friendship within a marriage is important. Others spend their days arguing and avoiding. You saw all of that fear and as a young woman you watched all of that reflected in others and in the school-room you were taught how to obey any future husbands, and that whole concept was an unknown world to you but you still thought of it." Aramis made a face then, as if he was sorry he'd spoken. "Look, all I'm saying is that you are a product of your upbringing and education. It's not that you are narrow-minded; you just haven't delved that far yet. It might be good to think on it a little though. If it were ever to happen, the sacking of royalty I mean; the nobility would be next in the firing line. It wouldn't hurt to know the players in the game and how they could help you in a sticky situation." 

Amorette no longer knew what to make of the marksman. She supposed she was right about him being a ladies man, but all of this deep liberal thinking made him seem much more than just a hired soldier. "You know, I did read some rather scandalous poetry a while back that talked off the fall of kings. Fabien something or other, I think his name was. He caused quite the scandal, so much so that just when I started to read his work it was all banned. His books were ordered to be burnt. Of course that meant that everyone wanted to read him." 

"I cannot say that I remember hearing of it." Aramis said.

"What about all that marriage stuff?" probed Amorette. "Where did all that come from?" 

Amorette watched Aramis smirk at her from across the room. "Let us just say Mademoiselle, that there have been a fair few women in my life who I have thought very highly of."

Even though the musketeer had no romantic designs upon her and neither her upon him, Amorette could still hear charm dripping from every word that he spoke. "I must confess Aramis that from our first meeting almost I knew that you were something of a ladies man. Please don't take that the wrong way!" Amorette held up her hands in mock surrender and didn't miss the smirk that crossed Aramis' face. "All I mean is that you're very charming gentleman. I think you love women, and know how to treat them well. Perhaps that's half your charm. It's not that real gentlemen are hard to find, but they are hard to hold on to. Most of the time when you find a man who treats women so well they are so hung up on someone else that it's pointless to make the effort with them. That's a struggle in itself though. A man mooning over his great love makes him that more irresistible in some strange way." Amorette stopped then, not sure if she should say anything else. Aramis was Athos' friend after all, and she supposed that no matter how much they would deny it; men probably did gossip about women to each other.

"I know how that feels. There were two women in my life who I felt like that about." Aramis sat up a little to look at her, as if the eye contact would encourage affinity. "There's always that one that got away that plagues your mind when you least expect it. There was one in question, who I haven't seen in many years. I have no knowledge of where she is or if she is even alive. I no longer harbour the same feelings for her but I can't help wondering what kind of a life she chose for herself. She was not someone I would have been in a position to marry. I was not wealthy enough."

"Perhaps it was for the best," mused Amorette. "You say you no longer feel the same about her so I'm sure that means you've met others since who have stirred those emotions in you, perhaps even more so than she ever did. Perhaps it just wasn't meant to be. Like almost everything nowadays."

 _ **I could just completely swerve and throw Amorette and Aramis together… nah! I think they are well suited as friends.**_


	9. Chapter 9

_**I only own Amorette.**_

Aramis shook Amorette awake as dawn crept into the room to inform her that the Occitan speaking men were no longer standing below their window. Moving quickly, she dressed and met Aramis at the stables and they rode out before the men could return. Aramis was uneasy until they reached the edge of the village and Amorette knew that it was because those men causing the ruckus the night before likely didn't take kindly to out of town soldiers. When they reached woodland Aramis relaxed immeasurably but Amorette felt more nervous. Just one day ago she had rode for her life through these very trees from an unknown aggressor. Would she find out just who it was today? Or, staying true to her promise; would she leave none the wiser? Would she have the events of these last few days hanging over her for the rest of her life? Amorette didn't much care for the idea of being haunted by her cousin's killer who also wanted her dead. What kind of a life would it be to be forever looking over her shoulder wherever she went?

 _Not much different to the life she lived already_ was the answer to that. Although deep down, Amorette knew that no one who met or knew of her judged her by her sister's actions she still worried about her familial connections. She always did look over her shoulder for fear that she would cross paths with someone who had been wronged by her sister. Amorette did love her sister, but she also feared that someday her sister's needs would be so dire that Ann would have no choice to hunt Amorette down. If she died without marrying then Ann was her sole heir and her vast fortune may be Ann's only conceivable solution. Just like that a seed was planted in Amorette's mind. To Aramis she said nothing though, and decided to wait until they had spoken with the others.

Turning at the fork in the road, Amorette and Aramis began to make their way down the long winding driveway but movement from far off on their right had Aramis pointing his pistol towards the old lodge ruins. They were met with the sight of Porthos waving them towards him. "I could have shot at you, you know!" Exclaimed Aramis good humouredly as he slapped Porthos on the back. Inside the ruins D'artagnan and Athos waited for them. Amorette supposed it was far safer to talk here away from the house. Within the ruins they could see the land around them and would be able to see any eavesdroppers or attackers from any angle.

"I trust that last night was uneventful?" Athos asked.

Aramis nodded. "Nothing here either?"

All three musketeers shook their heads.

"Because they want me." It wasn't a question, but a statement and as soon as it left her mouth Amorette was suddenly more aware of the theory forming in her mind. Athos stared at her with cold blue eyes, as if he was seeing right through her. For a moment Amorette thought he might suddenly accuse her of the heinous crime, but then his look softened a little.

"The question is why?"

D'artagnan and Porthos related that they had searched the Chateau again in the early morning light, but no one knew where the men who attacked Amorette had disappeared to. One thing they all agreed on was that they were still within the house, waiting. A conversation of strategy broke out, and again Amorette found herself floating somewhere above it, staring up at the rising son as it rose over the battlements, casting the house in shadow. "What about the attic? Did you search the attic?" demanded Amorette as she turned to stare at them all.

As it turned out, they had not searched the attic. The idea had occurred to them, but they had been unable to find the entrance to the room at the very top of the house. Amorette knew of only one way into the attic but she was fairly willing to consider that there could be more secret passageways leading to it. Whatever it was that they had hoped to find in the attic, the group of five was initially disappointed. Upon approaching the room through a passageway that was hidden behind a wooden beam in the wall which popped out of place, their anticipation had increased tenfold. They had shuffled along, Porthos and Athos leading the way, Amorette in the middle and Aramis and D'artagnan bringing up the rear. Amorette thought she could have broken teeth on the atmosphere If she had bit down on it in those few seconds, but when they entered the attic room all that there was to be found was old furniture, paperwork, books and paintings. Old dust sheets littered the floor and as the golden morning sunlight filtered through the cracks in the shutters Amorette felt at an unusual peace amongst her family's old things. Porthos and Aramis took up a position at the doorway, whilst Amorette followed D'artagnan and Athos up three steps into the room and began to rifle through its contents.

Athos began searching the cabinets that lined the walls whilst D'artagnan pulled the paintings apart in the hopes of finding something between them. A tall dresser stood in the middle of the room, and Amorette thought it would not have looked out of place in a Madam's bedroom or dressing room. Sheaf's of paperwork lay across the surface and Amorette rifled through household bills of letters and furniture receipts. Her uncles had certainly accumulated a lot of assets over the years, and Amorette suspected that most of the paperwork that she now held in her hand belonged to things that were no longer even connected to the house.

D'artagnan held up a painting of a young woman. "Who's this?"

Amorette looked up from the paperwork, "A family friend… Sophie I think. I cannot even remember her family name. There was quite the squabble over that painting. I think the artist painted it here and then Sophie died shortly afterwards. The painting was hanging in the dining room for a while before it was moved up here. Her family wanted the painting back though, I think they expected to offer a small sum of money and that Charles would just hand it over, but he knew that the artist was influential at the time. The painting was worth far more than the family would offer so Charles refused to return it to them. Thus the friendship was terminated. The family were very disgruntled."

D'artagnan raised his eyebrows. "Enough to kill for it?"

Amorette snorted from her position behind the tall dresser. She thought she saw Athos throw a dis-satisfied look her way, but she ignored it. "They were a family grieving for their daughter monsieur. They wanted the painting to remember her by. But it was just a painting. They moved from this area years ago. It was a foolish argument. The poor people were desperate to have the painting and here it was sitting with a dust sheet draped over it. Charles was too stubborn for his own good sometimes."

Amorette went back to the papers and D'artagnan continued on pulling paintings out. "What about this one?" The painting in his hands was far smaller and less artistic than the last one had been, but Amorette knew it all the same.

"That is my mother!" She came out from behind the dresser and took the painting from him. A young, unmarried woman stared back at her, and Amorette was shocked yet again by how the artist had managed to catch the glint of excitement for life in the eyes. That was a look that Amorette had never seen in her mother's eyes. It seemed that as a young girl, her mother had been far happier and full of vitality. Amorette had always known that her mother's married life had been a terribly unhappy one, and that she had longed for the days before her marriage when she could just be, but this painting evoked that truth even more. Suddenly feeling a disdainful hatred for the painting which awoke such tender emotions, Amorette wordlessly handed back the painting and returned to her position. She wasn't unaware that Athos was now openly watching her, but yet again she ignored him.

More minutes passed, and the only sound to be heard in the attic room was the crumpling of unneeded paper in Amorette's hand, and the slight ruffling of book paper, as Athos flicked through one. The sun was really glaring in now, and Amorette watched for a few minutes as specks of dust floated in the air, much like the memories in her mind, linking themselves to different pieces around the room. D'artagnan had pulled another painting out. This one was of an unknown gentleman with wonderfully tanned skin and a moustache to rival them all. D'artagnan looked to her, asking her wordlessly if she knew who the model was. Amorette shook her head. "Haven't a clue about that one I'm afraid. He does seem familiar, and not just from seeing the portrait around the house. Something about the eyes…" Amorette rubbed her chin in thought for a minute before shrugging her shoulders and going back to the papers. She was now flicking through notes and invoices from artists for some of the paintings within the house. One in particular had Amorette stopping in her tracks. For a few seconds she stared at the name, sure that her rapidly increasing heartbeat could be heard all over the room.

"His name is Cosimo Scarera." Amorette's voice sounded so small and lost in the room even to her own ears that she was surprised that anyone had heard her. Athos turned sharply at the sound of the name. "That," she said as she pointed towards the painting, "Is the father of the Italian boy on the roof." Amorette unconsciously brought a hand up to cover her mouth in shock. "I didn't think of that." With a glance towards Athos she knew that her old friend hadn't thought of it either.

"Thought of what?" D'artagnan questioned, still holding the painting.

"Everyone outside now!" Athos was already pushing Amorette back in the direction of the passageway. No one spoke as they scurried back downstairs into the main house. The urgency in Athos' voice was enough to tell them all that they shouldn't openly talk inside the house for fear of being overheard. They had all reached the ruins again and Amorette had sat herself down on a low foundation wall before anyone spoke.

"What's this all about?" Aramis asked as he sat beside Amorette. D'artagnan sat down on the grass in front of them, but Athos and Porthos stayed standing, sheepishly looking around them for signs of trouble.

Amorette let her gaze stray to the North tower of the Chateau which was the highest point of the house. "The little Italian boy on the roof." When all except Athos looked at her incredulously, Amorette was forced to continue. Just as she opened her mouth to speak though, the suspicion that had entered her head earlier that morning stopped her in her tracks. "Athos there is something I need to ask you. I have little in the way of experience of marriage I know, but I understand that when some people marry they agree to share everything with their spouse. It's almost as if they are no longer two and are in fact one person. If you told her…If you told Ann what happened that day then I need to know. I will not be angry or upset about it but I need to know."

For a few seconds Athos looked at her blankly, as if he was shocked that she would ask such a question. "We swore never to tell another living soul what happened here that day, and I kept my promise. Surely now it's your turn to recall who it is that you have told!" In his voice there was barely controlled anger, as if Amorette had betrayed him completely in thinking that he had not kept his promise. Amorette knew in that moment that he was disappointed because he thought that she had in fact broken her own promise.

Amorette shook her head vigorously before saying, "I never spoke a word of it to anyone-"

"Will one of you please tell us what the hell is going on here?" Porthos interrupted. D'artagnan and Aramis seemed to share his annoyance and Amorette looked to Athos then for approval. He nodded, and Amorette saw in his eyes the same apprehension that she felt. Their careful dodging of the story was finally over. It was not a story that she wanted to tell, but in that moment Amorette knew that she had no choice.

"Feel free to chip in wherever you wish to," she said with a nod to Athos. "I spent every childhood of my summer here. Months on end were spent basking in the sunshine and flouncing around at the lakeside. When I was a young girl, a young boy; Gio came to stay here. It was a favour of my uncle's to an old Italian friend of his I think. The boy was to train to become my uncle's squire or steward or something or other. He was a little younger than me, so he was not schooled every day. One such day, it was raining rather terribly and we were restricted to running amok indoors. My uncle was in his study working, and most of the servants were downstairs preparing for dinner. There wasn't really anyone about to keep an eye on Gio as he played, so the responsibility fell to me. I was reading a book, so I wasn't giving him my full attention. He'd been behaving very strangely that morning I thought, so I tried not to encourage him too much but he was very hyper-active; bouncing about all over the place and rambling away in some strange made-up language. At the time I thought it was simply a language I didn't yet know. I was only eight; I presumed it was Greek or German or something. He kept on rambling, and the words became more confusing, more jumbled up. Suddenly he shot off, running down the hallway. I followed him as he ran, still jabbering nonsense as he went. When I finally managed to catch up with him I realised that he had taken the staircase up to the roof of the North Tower. Now, that wasn't somewhere that any of us were permitted to be at any time without supervision. I wasn't sure what to do. Did I go and tell someone and get the boy and probably myself into trouble, or did I follow him and try to bring him back down from the tower again? If I managed to bring him back downstairs right away then there would be no need to tell anyone else what had happened and I would save us both from a severe tongue lashing. If I went up and the boy wouldn't come down then I would go for help, and at least I'd know I'd tried to prevent us getting into trouble…"

 _Decision made to follow the boy, Amorette couldn't help the roll of uneasiness in her stomach. The boy was such a strange creature, and what on earth could he want at the top of a cold dank tower in the pouring rain. Gio was a quiet, reflective sort of child and Amorette regretted not checking his temperature. Perhaps he was delirious with fever. Stepping though the doorway into the circular stair-well, Amorette felt the drop in temperature immediately. The wind howled through the stone tower like a ghost racing down the steps towards her. Then, incredibly, even with the sound of the wind and rain Amorette heard someone call her name. "Amorette! Pretty Mademoiselle!" Even though it was reassuring to hear the boy calling to her in French again, Amorette still felt as if something wasn't quite right. She hoped he would come back downstairs again with her when she reached the top of the tower. The cold of the stone steps seeped through Amorette's flimsy little shoes as she climbed higher and higher. When she reached the top, she found the door that led out onto the roof of the tower swinging back and forth in the strong breeze. At first she couldn't see Gio, only hear him chanting in his made-up language. There was something quite sinister about it now, Amorette thought._

 _Stepping out into the rain, Amorette finally saw Gio. He had been hiding behind the door. Throwing himself out from behind it, he grabbed her hands and began to spin her around. Amorette tried to pull him back inside the stairwell but even though the boy was younger than her he was strong enough to pull her further out towards the battlements. The boy laughed as he spun them both around, but it wasn't the laugh of a young mischievous child at play. It was something else entirely. Strangely, Amorette was swiftly reminded of her uncle Phillipe who was nestled in his library downstairs. Fear welled in the pit of her stomach and she tried to pull away from the boy again but Amorette couldn't free her wrists. His babbling intensified, almost as if he thought that the made up words he spoke had meaning._

 _Amorette found herself getting dizzy rather quickly, and stopped trying to fight the boy. She closed her eyes and tried to settle her spinning head. The boy didn't stop spinning though, but gained more speed. Just as Amorette decided to open her eyes again, he wrists were released and she flew backwards into the hard stone battlements. A sickening crack and a searing pain across her shoulder told her that it was dislocated. Finally opening her eyes, Amorette found herslf practically wrapped around a crenel. Her shoulder had collided with the merlon of the battlements, and her head and other shoulder were wedged into the gap. Her arms wrapped tightly around the stone-work were all that had saved her from plummeting over the side. Shaking now, Amorette noticed that the boy was silent. She turned to Gio, and found him watching her intently. Amorette knew in that moment that she needed to get down off that roof. She managed to straighten up a little, and let go of the stone. Looking at her injured shoulder, she could see that it sat at an odd angle. Amorette looked away over her other shoulder as she felt bile rise in her throat. As she did so, a sound pierced the silence; the pitfalls of raindrops and the sound of a horse's hooves. Amorette turned to look out over the battlements, and there he was. "Athos!" Amorette screamed at the top of her voice. The man below, astride a horse looked up as the sound reached him._

 _Gio had begun to chant again. Amorette turned to find him slowly walking towards her. If he tried to throw her over the side again, Amorette was sure her shoulder wouldn't have the strength save her again. She began to panic, looking around her wildly even though she knew there was nothing to aid her. She knew that Athos had heard her, but would he reach the tower in time? Amorette tried to calm herself, which was no easy feat now that Gio's chanting was growing louder by the second. A howling of the wind as it rushed into the stairwell and forced the door to flap open and closed reminded her that she needed to focus on getting away. Amorette couldn't think of how to get passed the boy though. An idea struck her then, and she dashed forward before she could even think of what she was about to do. Grabbing the boy's wrists in her hands like he had done to her, she began to spin them round, the speed rapidly increasing. All that she needed to do was propel him away from the door and she would have a free path to make a run for it. She had thought the boy would have fought her, but he continued to chant, a strange sort of laughter visible in his eyes._

 _After a few seconds, Amorette took her chance and released the boy's wrists. He fell backwards just like she had done, but Amorette didn't see where he had fallen as she was already making her way towards the stairwell. She was brought back with force when Gio's hand clamped down upon her shoulder, but Amorette's yelp of pain didn't break his chant at all. Up close, Amorette thought he looked to be in some sort of trance. He turned her towards the battlements again and Amorette didn't have the energy to fight him. She felt his hands move and knew that he was about to do. Two small hands in the small of her back pushed her with more than enough force to throw her from the roof to her death._

 _Before she could fall though, she felt something large collide with her diaphragm. Looking down, she saw a large hand splayed across the flat of her stomach, pulling her into a warm body. Feeling Athos' breath on the top of her head, she let him drag her backwards across the roof towards the door even as the boy continued to chant. Amorette couldn't take her eyes of Gio. He seemed to have admitted defeat even as he laughed. She might not have had the strength to fight him off, but she was sure Athos, a young man swiftly approaching adulthood, would be able to fight him off with little exertion. Athos halted his back flat against the door and his arms tightened around her. They watched in horror as Gio climbed up in-between the battlements and turned to face them. The deep growl in Athos' voice told Amorette what was going to happen next. The ear-splitting scream of the boy came next, as he jumped from the roof and tumbled through the air to his death._

"It was easy," Athos continued their story as Amorette struggled to explain what happened next. "To say that Mademoiselle Amorette had run out to meet me as I approached the house and that we watched from the path below as the boy jumped, or threw himself off. They decided it was a terrible accident even after we said that he jumped. If we had told the truth, Amorette would have been accused of having a hand in what happened to the boy, perhaps even me too."

For a few minutes there was silence as the three musketeers absorbed the story. A stiff wind tousled Amorette's loose hair. She let her mind escape to the deepness of Athos' voice that day, compared to now. Back then he had seemed so old and worldly to her even though he was only twice her age. Now though, his voice spoke of not just experience, but pain. Most of that pain if not all had been caused by her own sister.

"So you think that Gio's family has something to do with what's happening now?" D'artagnan asked. "How would they know if neither of you have spoken of it to anyone?"

"A guess maybe? Perhaps they blame the family for the loss of their boy anyway, even without knowing what really happened." Porthos seemed sure of his theory, but Amorette knew she was about to addle their brains even more.

"Ann told them. I cannot think of any other way." She held her hands up in surrender. "And Athos I know you said you didn't speak of it to her, and I believe you. I think she was here that day. I think she saw what happened and now that I have something she wants, Ann is using it to her advantage."

Athos moved then, coming to kneel in front of her where she sat. "Amorette that is madness. You did not know you had a sister then. Neither of you had ever met. You'd never been in the same town together let alone a house. Where is all this coming from?"

Amorette shook her head, not even sure now she had come to the conclusion herself. One thing she did know was that as soon as she had spoken, she had decided that she believed her own theory whole heartedly. Athos reached up suddenly as if on Impulse and lay his hand on top of hers and squeezed.

"Regardless of what part you think your sister may have played in this," said Aramis, "We now have a substantial lead. The family of this boy, and we now need to figure out what they want and how to catch them before they take it-"

"Oh I know what they want," laughed Amorette hollowly. "And it's probably me, up there!" With her hand she pointed towards the North Tower, almost sure that she could feel a twinge of pain in her shoulder. She knew it was more psychological than physical, but hurt it did and Amorette knew that it probably would for the rest of her life. Pulling her hand back, Amorette rolled her shoulder back a few times to try and ease the pain. She shuddered a little as all four men watched her intently. "It's never really healed." She looked away then, pulling her hand out of Athos' grip.

"Well even if that is what they want, they aren't going to get it. We'll keep you well out of the way of that tower," grumbled Porthos.

Amorette looked at him incredulously. "I'd rather be up there out in the open than locked in a room with them again."

Athos was still kneeling in front of her, grim determination on his face. "The Mademoiselle is right, we need to end this on our terms; her terms. Inside the house, we are just waiting for the inevitable unknown. Up on that roof, we can see everything. Even from below we hold the upper hand. Aramis can shoot him before he goes near her. He won't be able to resist coming to Amorette even if he knows we are in place." Amorette nodded. Aramis at least looked sure of his own shooting ability, whereas D'artagnan just looked confused.

"Can we get this over with then?" she asked.

A while later, they all stood looking up at the tower; apprehension clear on all of their faces. They had questioned just about every aspect of what they planned to do, but Amorette was determined to try. She hadn't even let her mind dwell on the fact that in a few minutes she may not be standing at the base of the tower, but lying; lying in a pool of her own blood. She was going to prove her sister's involvement in all of this. She didn't yet know how, but she would. What they had planned was in fact so simple that she was sure it would go entirely wrong, but Amorette was ready for whatever that was. She looked to the marksman on her right, and was relieved to see that Aramis seemed the most confident of them all now. Even Athos' resolve had wavered a little in the last few minutes. Porthos and D'artagnan though looked even more frightened than Amorette felt. They thought she was climbing to her death.

Perhaps she was, Amorette considered as she began to climb the steps of the tower. In doing so though, she would prove to Athos that Ann was capable of more than anyone imagined. Hopefully her death would open his mind to the fact that his love for that woman was only a trap, and that he would be cured. She was not selfish in her thoughts though. She knew her death would not prompt Athos to mourn her, realising that she was the one he should have loved and married. She simply wanted to set him free. The higher Amorette got the more frightened and unsure she became. In one hand she clutched one of Porthos' pistols, and in the other Athos' small dagger. Despite the fast work that a pistol could do, Amorette felt far more comfort from the dagger, and not just because Athos had pressed it into her hand. The pistol held one shot, but the dagger could defend her for as long as she needed.

Stepping out onto the roof, Amorette noted that the breeze was dying down. She was left in the calm silence which was almost more unnerving. She thought she could see the brim of Athos' hat from where he waited below but she couldn't see Aramis. She hoped he had found the best vantage point, wherever he was because she didn't know if she would actually be able to use the weapons in her hands. Athos had chastised her below, when she had tried to refuse them. Him telling her that if Aramis couldn't make the shot she would have to take it herself had not helped her to come to terms with the fact that she might be about to shoot a man, even if he was trying to kill her. Amorette knew Cosimo wouldn't be foolish enough to come alone either; he would bring his accomplices.

The minutes ticked by. Amorette imagined the clock downstairs in the hallway ticking. Surely he had seen her by now. The roof of the tower could be seen from many of the windows of the chateau. Amorette felt her heartbeat begin to race as the door to the stairwell creaked open, and Cosimo Scarera stepped onto the roof. An unreadable expression sat upon olive skin, and his thick black hair was swept away from his face. Despite his hair greying a little at the temples, Amorette could still observe that he was an impressive looking man. Taking in his sheer height, Amorette knew that he was the man who had tried to strangle her the previous night. He was almost as tall as Porthos, and when he took a few steps away from the door he was tall enough to block the sunlight from obscuring her vision. Amorette took a single step back as she noticed the musket in his hand. She knew in that moment that he was either going to shoot her or throw her over the side. Two men followed him through the doorway. Immediately Amorette saw a family resemblance and knew that they were nephews, if not sons.

Amorette could hear the sound of her own blood pumping in her hears, and feel the sharp coldness of the dagger hilt as it bit into her hand. She didn't hear them speak though. They stood silently, watching her. The breeze picked up again and Amorette's hair blew into her face and obscured her vision. In that split second, everything changed. Cosimo barrelled towards her across the roof, and Amorette knew that he was going to throw her over the side. Suddenly a loud cracking sound broke the tranquillity of the now overcast mid-morning. Cosimo had frozen, and looked to her in shock. He dropped his musket from one hand as the other prodded at the bleeding wound in his abdomen. Amorette sucked in a startled breath as she stared down at her own arm held aloft, Porthos' pistol still smoking in her hand. How Amorette had shot him, she did not know. For a few seconds she thought that Aramis had hit his mark from wherever it was that he stood, but her own fear, determination and survival instincts must have kicked in. Amorette dropped her arm, the pistol feeling like a dead weight in her hand. Cosimo's men seemed just as shocked as Amorette, and both of them had cried out for their leader as he fell to the ground, still trying to put pressure over his wound. One man, the smaller of the two, turned hateful eyes on her then, and tore across the roof towards her followed by the other but Amorette barely felt his fingertips brush against her arm before two more cracks shattered the silence and they both fell instantly. The pistol in Amorette's hand did not smoke this time though. The marksman had hit his target.

 _ **I feel some evil skin-crawling Milady action coming in the next chapter ;)**_


	10. Chapter 10

_**I only own Amorette.**_

Amorette let herself step backwards until she was leaning against the battlements, a shaky hand covering her mouth as she let out a sob. Observing the scene before her that she had helped create, Amorette wanted nothing more than to drop the pistol from her hand. Amorette did not think that Porthos would mind too much, but the pistol was not hers to discard and so she made a point of getting a better grip of it. The banging of a door from what sounded like very far away told her the musketeers were in the house again. Amorette's movements seemed alien to her. There she was, walking slowly across the roof towards the doorway and she did not know how her legs were moving. They should have been shaking, falling from under her. But there was drive in her still. Ann was in this somewhere and Amorette needed to prove it not just to Athos but to herself as well.

Amorette took the stairs carefully and slowly. She planted her hand upon the thick stone wall of the spiral staircase and the shrill scrapping sound of the dagger dragging along the stone kept her grounded; kept her putting one foot in front of the other. Round and round she went, counting on her feet to guide her as her eyes filled with tears. Amorette wiped her tears away with her sleeve when she knew she was almost reaching the bottom of the staircase. When she turned what she knew to be the last bend towards what should have been an empty doorway Amorette was not ready for what met her there.

Stood at the very bottom of the staircase; corset pulled so tight that her breasts were almost escaping it and hat at a jaunty angle upon her head stood Milady De Winter. Amorette knew that her sister was involved, and it was not altogether an unexpected sight but she did not know how to handle it at all. Her sister held no weapon though and Amorette held two. That gave her some courage. "I knew that this had your name written all over it!"

"And why would you think any different. You will always blame me for your faults." Ann simpered. "We were never destined to be close. It is inevitable that you should hate me."

"I think it's the other way around. You hate me! This is proof!" Amorette stared into the still smiling face of the woman who she once thought so very highly of.

Ann tilted her head to the side, looking even more devious. "I must confess the thoughts of seeing your pretty little neck snapping in two as you fall from that tower is most appealing. It's something I've desired since I was fourteen years old!"

The outburst didn't shock Amorette. The idea had been forming in her mind all morning and the only acknowledgement she made was to avert her eyes and look over Ann's shoulder. "I told you so." Amorette was surprised that he heard her. In the seconds after her sister's outburst, Amorette's fight and drive had drained from her.

Ann turned swiftly on her heel to stare at Athos, shocked that she had not heard him approaching. The blank expression he held as he stared down at Ann might have confused Amorette's sister, but Amorette herself knew just how much turmoil it really hid. The man was ready to explode and Amorette found that she didn't want to be witness to such a private display of emotion. Her work here was done. Athos knew the truth now and it was all over.

Then he spoke, and the supressed anger and disdain was evident. "Step away from her." Amorette almost thought she saw Ann flinch, but she recovered it well. Athos cocked his pistol and Ann side stepped. Amorette stood watching them for a moment, waiting for one of them to make an unexpected move. When they didn't, she gingerly crossed the doorway and once she was out of her sister's reach she dashed across the hallway. The other musketeers walked around a corner and to Amorette's delight she saw that Aramis was not surprised. He seemed to have put a little more faith in her theory than he had given away. Porthos and D'artagnan shared a look and made their way towards the tower staircase and Amorette knew it was to check the dead.

There was silence as they all stood in the hallway, not looking at each other. Ann seemed to have recovered a little from her shock of coming face to face with Athos and was now attempting to simper sweetly as if she was a young debutante trying to win over a suitor. The hand that held Athos' pistol shook almost violently and Aramis placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Well we all know where this is leading don't we. Shall we convene in the library messieurs?" Ann spoke as if they'd all met here as acquaintances for tea, cake and small talk. She turned and walked the length of the corridor and waited patiently at the corner for them to follow her.

Amorette slowly felt her resolve crumbling. "Can someone please take these from me before I throw them?" She held out the pistol and the dagger, her face twisting as if the weapons that she held disgusted her.

Athos slipped the dagger from her fingers with a look that she could not define and turned to follow his estranged wife. Aramis took Porthos' pistol from her, but before Amorette could drop her hand to her side Aramis took it in his own hand and squeezed. Amorette smiled at him even though tears pricked her eyes. They walked the length of the hallway hand in hand. They followed Ann and Athos out onto the grand staircase and down to the library. Amorette grimly thought that she had experienced enough turmoil that morning without having to suffer the sight of that room again so soon. To her relief, whilst Athos paced the room in an agitated manner Aramis stayed right by her side holding her hand. Amorette couldn't help giving his hand a small squeeze in gratitude and when he gave another squeeze in return she almost turned to smile at him again. His thumb rubbed soothing circles into the back of her hand for a few silent minutes and Amorette realised that she had stopped shaking.

After a short while, there came an odd grunting noise from outside the room and Porthos and D'artagnan returned to the group. They carried between them a barely alive Cosimo Scarera. Amorette let out a little gasp. She had not realised that he was still alive. He was dumped unceremoniously into a chair on the far side of the room from her, and Amorette turned away. Unable to look at the man who she had shot only moments ago she turned her attention on her sister who watched the whole scene with sheer relish on her face.

"Well look here, the party's all together!" Ann exclaimed, clapping her hands in apparent glee.

"Don't say another word!" Athos roared. He moved swiftly towards Cosimo then, glaring at Ann as he went.

He knelt at the side of the chair Cosimo was draped across. For a moment Athos assessed him with his shrewd cold eyes before glancing at Amorette. "Monsieur you will explain your presence in this house and your intention whilst here!"

Cosimo rasped and spluttered for a moment and Amorette thought that they would not get any sense from him. But then he spoke in a pained and distant voice, spitting blood as he formed the words with his mouth. "Killed…killed my boy in this house. You…bitch…killed him and your family have paid the price."

"I DIDN'T TOUCH YOUR BOY!" Amorette screamed and Aramis squeezed her hand again in reassurance.

"It's true Monsieur. Your boy almost killed this good Mademoiselle. I was there that day, and I saw your son jump of his own accord. You have wrongfully laid blame and killed a family who had no part in your son's death." Athos voice was quiet and reserved, but there was finality in it that Amorette appreciated. He was trying to make this as short as possible.

"Your family…all at fault…cousin…uncle…" Cosimo pointed at Ann, and Amorette knew the meaning. She had told him a complete fabrication.

"My uncle didn't touch your boy either. My sister is a compulsive liar and murderess herself. You have listened to nonsense and acted upon it foolishly."

"All to blame…uncle …I know the stories. Stories…of perversion and deceit…this house!"

"How many times," Amorette exclaimed exasperatedly. "How many? My uncle never touched Gio! His taste was in little girls, not boys. I should know!" Amorette slapped her hand across her open mouth as she realised what she had just said. She grimaced as everyone turned to look at her. Cosimo never gave an answer though. He released a small sigh, and died in the chair as they all stood around him.

Ann laughed sickeningly. "Oh what a shame he won't live to tell his riveting tale!"

"You were asked not to speak!" D'artagnan cried as Ann began to pace leisurely about the room.

Amorette slipped her hand out of Aramis' grasp and took a few steps forward, so that she came into her sister's path. "What did you say to him? What did you tell him about that boy?" As Ann came to a halt in front of her, Amorette stared into the eyes of a lady who clearly held no remorse. Ann simply stared back at her, bemused. "What on earth did you do to that boy? You were here that day weren't you? WEREN'T YOU?" Amorette balled her hands into fists as she got no response from her sister. "What did you whisper into that poor boy's ear to make him do such things? Did you tell him to jump too-"

"Of course she did," interrupted Athos. "What better way to preserve her anonymity. Even if the boy failed in his assignment I'm sure he was persuaded to jump so that he could never incriminate her."

Amorette shook her head in disgust. She came to the conclusion there and then that she didn't want to know any more, but her sister didn't give her the option of remaining ignorant.

"It was a real shame that it didn't work." Ann swerved around Amorette and resumed her pacing of the room as she spoke. "You know I honestly thought it would. My father told me of your existence not long before that day, and I knew then that I had to do something for myself. I was never going to see my mother's money or title if I did not act. For years I had resigned myself to the fact that I could never better myself, and suddenly there was a chance. I only had to dispose of you and I would open so many doors for myself. Your own father had knowledge of my being in the area you know. He did nothing about it. I don't think he really gave much of a damn whether I introduced myself to you and made efforts to be reconciled; or whether I killed you stone dead. I was convinced then that perhaps you were a horrible, mean child. After all, what on earth could make a father hate his own daughter so? The boy was easy pickings. This world we live in is so God fearing and sorcery obsessed that when I told the boy I was a witch he believed me!" Ann cackled with mirth and Amorette had to swallow down the bile that rose in her throat. Ann had reached the large ornate desk that took up one corner of the room and she leant against it. "The boy was easily influenced. You were both to fall from that roof, and it would have looked like the horrific accident of two foolish children playing where they should not have been. When he failed…"

A flicker of weakness was suddenly visible to Amorette then and she didn't have to look very far before she figured out what it was.

"I hadn't counted on you Athos," Ann said in a small voice. "The dashing friend who came to the rescue; I watched you together that day, and I heard the story that you spun to protect her. That was something I had never had; that pure kind of friendship and affection that knows no boundaries."

"THAT'S BECAUSE YOU RUIN EVERYHTING YOU TOUCH!" Amorette bellowed across the room. She was right. Ann couldn't keep anything pure.

"And you dear sister were so grateful and drippy, trailing after him like a lost puppy! I wanted what you had." Ann twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, and then flicked the rest of her hair back over her shoulder. Amorette caught the faintest scent of Jasmine perfume.

"I can't listen to any more of this!" announced Amorette suddenly. "I can't listen to your lies, games, schemes and secrets anymore!"

Amorette turned to walk away from them all, but she had barely taken a few steps when her sister spoke again, and this time everyone in the room could hear the malice. "You're one to talk about secrets, especially as you stand in this room! Why don't we share your biggest one of all with the group?"

Amorette turned on her heel to find her sister stalking the room towards her, intent on ruining the very dignity that Amorette had managed to uphold all those years. "This isn't about me," Amorette whispered. Racing towards the door, Amorette rattled the door handle but it was firmly locked. She had been foolish to think that musketeers would leave a room that held two assailants unlocked. She rattled the handle a second time all the same.

"Yes little sister, let's talk about secrets!" Ann laughed again. It was a cold laugh that penetrated even the warmest of hearts.

Ann turned to the room at large, "You won't know about any of this Athos but many years ago I expressed to many people that I had been ravished by my uncle. Of how he had cornered me one evening after a ball, and tried to force himself upon me and I was powerless to stop him. Everyone thought I had been rescued by some dashing young messieurs. Everyone was enthralled with my tale. It was wonderful, and just for once I had the attention I'd always craved in the shadow of my younger sister. But in all honesty, none of it was true."

Amorette lost all pretence and dashed towards her sister, determined to cause her harm. Aramis threw his arms out to catch her before she could do so, and Amorette was left the only one in the room hurting. "You vile bitch!" she screamed at her sister, who's stoic expression lifted into that of a woman pleased with her work. "Please Ann…please stop," begged Amorette as she gave up fighting against Aramis' hold.

"No. No I won't stop. This vile bitch has quite a bit more of her story to tell."

Amorette wrestled out of Aramis' hold and made for the door again. Rattling the handle again she cried "Will someone open this door!" For a few more seconds she rattled the handle, but no one moved to open it again. Sensing defeat, Amorette leant her forehead against the cool wood of the door as she tried not to cry.

She heard the swishing of fabric as Ann moved around the room again in her extravagant dress. "Don't you want me to tell them where I got the idea from dear sister?" Amorette remained silent. "If you don't tell them I will." Amorette kept her eyes closed, trying to convince herself that if she couldn't see it, then it wasn't real. "Very well. I hope you are all sitting comfortably." Amorette almost chocked on the sickly sweet tone of voice her sister persisted in using, as if all four of the musketeers were about to fall at her feet in raptures of undying love.

"You don't remember Amorette's sixteenth birthday do you Athos? You remember saying you would attend though?"

"Where are you going with this?" snarled Athos and Amorette was surprised by how close his voice sounded. She didn't dare open her eyes to see, but she thought she could sense him hovering behind her.

"All in good time dear Athos. Back to the party; you had said you'd be there, but you weren't. It really was quite the party, and it almost went unnoticed that you weren't in attendance, if not for a little note. Amorette was handed a note by a servant. Now that note appeared to her to be from someone that she knew and trusted implicitly. The note asked Amorette to go to the library, where her friend was waiting for her. Now, the library wasn't somewhere that Amorette regularly frequented for one particular reason, so this was quite the dilemma for my little sister. She didn't wish to enter that library for any reason, but she thought perhaps if that friend was there waiting for her; then she could just about stomach going there to meet him. So off she skipped, excited at the prospect of seeing her hear friend who had not yet been seen at the party.

"When she got here though, she found that her friend was nowhere to be seen. In fact, in his place was our uncle Phillipe, the very reason that she gave the room an extremely wide birth. That situation had in fact occurred before. Alone in the library with our uncle, but this time there was a difference. She had not been invited. She had not unwillingly come to this room. She had skipped in, all excitement and laughter because she thought that she came to see the man that she loved. Our uncle wasn't able to control his urges."

There was silence in the room, as the four musketeers waited with bated breath for what was about to happen next. There was a carefully controlled rage ebbing under the surface though, waiting to explode and they could all sense it.

When Ann next spoke, Amorette knew she was not addressing the room any more, but speaking directly to her. "I cannot begin to imagine what that was like; his hands roving all over you; a hunter, finally capturing its prey. And you had to fight him off all on your own, didn't you? No gallant young Comte to rescue you. That was something I had not anticipated. You, fighting back? I think there must have been a point when you realised that no one was going to help you, that he wasn't going to enter that room. I pitied you a little, I admit. Because throughout your ordeal you thought that perhaps it would end abruptly; that your friend would arrive, a little late and dishevelled and come to your rescue. But the moment you realised that was a turning point for you. I thought it would be your ruin but in fact you took strength from it. Perhaps it's time for me to come clean. Athos never wrote that note. By that point, Athos and I had gotten to know each other well enough for me to be able to confidently forge his signature. He didn't write that note. I did."

Amorette let out a guttural sob, turning swiftly to face her sister. For a few seconds air couldn't reach her lungs. She shook her head in disbelief, tears freely flowing down her face now. In Ann's face though, she could only see bemusement. She was telling the truth for once. A swift crack broke the silence as Amorette slapped her sister across the face, hard. It was a mark of just how repugnant Ann's honesty was that no one moved to stop Amorette. She slapped her again as she began to sob in earnest.

"I had no choice Amorette. You see, I'd already tried to kill you once and it backfired. So I thought that the next best thing was to ruin you entirely. You've always been right about me wanting what you have. When I tried to kill you, Athos was your resolute protector. I thought I'd try to ruin that as well. I thought that if he hadn't come to your aid you'd blame him for writing that letter and then standing you up. But you didn't." Ann adopted a mocking, childlike voice then, hate evident in her tone, "Because you are all that is pure and true. All that everyone ever did was speak about your wholesome goodness and it made me want to be violently ill. Well I have news for you little sister. No matter how kind-hearted you are! He still chose me and he will always choose me! He never loved you! You know I never did understand what our uncle really saw in you, the fat one, who spent all of her time mopping and mooning after someone who would never want her! You're nothing! No better than the common whores our uncle bedded on this library floor-"

"THAT'S ENOUGH! NOT ANOTHER WORD!" Athos roared. He dived in between Ann and Amorette so that he and his wife were barely a hair's breadth apart. Athos' face was puce and the grip on his pistol tightened. Amorette watched as her sister took a step back, her face impassive. Ann opened her mouth to speak again but Athos got there first. "I don't want to hear any more from you. I want to hear from your sister." Athos turned away from his wife and Amorette saw in his eyes a determination. Ann was not going to be able to say another word. Athos wouldn't allow it. His anger seemed to have quelled Ann's tirade. She stepped backwards until she was leaning against the desk.

After a few seconds of Ann's silence, everyone's attention returned to Amorette and she quivered under the intense gaze of the four men. She began to shrink back into the corner she had stepped out from as she sensed questions on all of their lips. Her back eventually pressed into hard bookcases and she stared down at the patterned rug at her feet. Amorette jumped when a hand gently slipped into her own. Looking up she found Aramis beside her again.

Looking up through her eyelashes, she tried to gauge the mood of Athos. When Ann had spoken it was almost as if it was all still rumour and lies. Amorette knew though that her own reaction had confirmed it all. Now, behind his eyes she could see a wave of anger just bubbling to the surface as he stared back at her. He seemed to sense her apprehension for he tried to dissolve the tension in his body. For a few seconds she watched as his shoulders relaxed, and remarkably his facial features did too. Still not sure that she wanted to talk about what had happened in that very room all those years ago, Amorette shook her head at Athos. The blue orbs changed slightly in that moment. Somehow, despite their cool demeanour they took on the warmth of a summer sky.

There was a pain there too. "Why didn't you come to me with this?" His voice was just a murmur and Amorette had to strain her ears to hear him. "I would have dealt with it."

Amorette shook her head again. She was doing a lot of that today, she vaguely thought. "There was nothing to be done. It happened. It's over. There was nothing that you could have done to help, Athos. I dealt with it myself. Besides; you were with her." Amorette threw a disgusted look towards Ann who was still perched on the edge of the desk.

It was Athos' turn to shake his head this time. "One word was all I'd have needed and I'd have come to you. By not doing so you've let her hold it over you for all this time. That's why she's here, now. That's why you can barely bring yourself to look at me when you were not at fault at all."

"What she says is true. All of it," muttered Amorette with a shrug of her shoulders. "It doesn't matter now. Like I said, I dealt with it."

"Dealt with it?" Athos cried.

"YES!" Amorette brought her hand up to cover her mouth again. The part of the story that Ann had conveniently left out was the one part that she was perhaps most ashamed of. Amorette did not regret it, but it still made her feel like her skin crawled. "I made sure he'd never touch another girl again that way."

Athos looked at her curiously then. "What does that…His hands?"

Amorette nodded stiffly. She watched his Adam's apple bobble a little as he swallowed, a shocked look flashing across his face for just a second.

She felt a slight tug on the hand that Aramis held. "What happened?" questioned Aramis.

"Nothing. That is; he did not get what he intended. What she said is true. Please don't make me say it. I don't want to relieve it. He pressed me against the table, right were Ann's sitting. His hands were everywhere. I think I fell to the floor at one point when I tried to get away. Then when I was standing, I swear I didn't mean to push him that hard. But I guess I didn't know my own strength in that moment. I pushed him as hard as I could, and he fell backwards. He put his hands out to steady himself but that was the most foolish thing he could have done. His hands landed in the fire." Amorette grimaced a little as despite her reluctance to remember anything of that night; it came back in crashing waves. "I can still hear the screams. His hands were so terribly burnt that he never had full use of them again. I'm not proud that I was the cause of such injuries but I don't regret what happened. There were others before me you know. Many others and I'm just glad that there were none after me. I had made sure of it. He never told anyone how he sustained his injuries, because he knew I could spill his secrets too."

Amorette stared down at the toes of her boots that were just visible below her skirts. Now that it was all out in the open she felt exhausted again. Her mind couldn't focus on one thought alone. She was still pushing the memories of that night from her mind, and trying not to think about how much less Athos would probably think of her now that he knew the truth. "Could someone open the door now please?" Amorette watched as Porthos threw a key across the room into Aramis' free hand. Within seconds he had led her to the door and opened it. Without a second thought Amorette slipped her hand out of his and fled.

The early afternoon sunlight made gave the ruined hunting lodge and fort a pretty sort of romantic feeling. But Amorette had seen it in the cold heart of winter too, when deep snow and slippery ice made it a precarious place to explore. This day was not for exploring though. It offered a solace from the goings on of the house. The old floor was mostly a plain of grass now, with a few old flag stones littered about. Every so often, a weed or flower would break through to provide a bit of colour. When summer came, this garden would be a beautiful spectacle to behold when all of the flowers were in full bloom. Amorette remembered long hazy summer days spent here only a few years ago, basking in the hot sun. Those days had consisted of splashing about in the lake and tearing though the glades and woodland of the grounds during the morning and dozing the afternoons away in the little sun trap that was the ruins.

Amorette had always wondered why her uncle had never tried to build it up a bit more. He could have added seating areas and brought parties out for picnics. He never did though and even in the spring and summer months this area of the grounds was left to be devoured by Amorette and the younger guests of the house. Amorette had spent many a sunny afternoon bathing in the sun with other young women as they swapped intrigues about the young men they could hear frolicking in the nearby lake. Just as they would begin to discuss retiring back to the house in the late afternoon, George Villiers would crash though the ruins with the other boys swinging drenched wet cloths about . There was one day in particular that Amorette remembered very well. Had she been of a more vivacious mood she might have blushed at the memory of the young men secretly coming upon them in only their breaches, rivulets of water still rolling down their bare chests. All of the young women had feigned modesty and outrage at such actions, but secretly they were incandescent and delighted. Amorette still remembered the mock cries of shock and little titters and giggles hidden behind small hands.

Those times were long gone now though and they would never come about again. The old clique was dispersed across the world now, and had not been together in many years. They would never reconvene to spend another day frolicking and flirting here at her cousin's home. Amorette supposed another group of young people may enjoy the landscape just as much as she had at some point if she sold the house. She didn't really have any other option now. The property was not an appealing asset to her, but another family could perhaps return it to its former glory.

The sound of horses had Amorette standing to attention. In the distance she watched D'artagnan gallop along the carriageway towards the fork in the road. He halted for a few seconds to look back, and then he disappeared into the trees. She guessed he was riding to fetch the magistrate. He had not been alone though. Athos slipped from his horse and approached her, and for a moment Amorette considered walking away from him, but she supposed he could easily outrun her astride his horse. Instead she turned her back to the approaching musketeer to show her reluctance to talk.

With a swift but gentle movement Athos gripped her wrist and turned her to face him. "Why did you not ever tell me about all of that? Why didn't you come to me? You've always known you could tell me anything!"

Amorette shook her head as she tried to form an answer. She wasn't ready to have this conversation with him and she didn't know that she ever would be. "You were with her, weren't you," she said nonchalantly. "You were with the woman who let my cousin and his family die for nothing. She happily sent those two innocent children to their deaths to try to get to me! That's the woman you chose Athos!" Amorette's old friend looked at her blankly and she knew he was going to disregard her last statement. She sighed exasperatedly. Athos was not to blame and she knew it, and resolved to try not to insult him. "It's no wonder I didn't tell you is it? Ann was always so confident and open. She was already practiced in the ways of men when she came to you wasn't she? I thought that was the type of woman that you wanted. I was embarrassed and ashamed and thought you could hardly be expected to look upon me in the same manor that you had done before."

Athos seemed to understand what she meant even though Amorette was not quite sure what she had said herself. "What about your other friends though? You had so many friends back then. Why didn't you go to one of them? The duke of Buckingham would have had the power to act against your uncle, you should have asked for his help. Come to think of it where are all of your friends now? Last time we met you were living alone out in the country with only a maid for company and now you are running errantly around France with no protection."

Amorette covered her eyes with her hand. Perhaps he didn't understand what she had said after all. "Athos I let that happen to me! I let my uncle treat me that way! I could have stopped him sooner; made my protestations clearer from the beginning. I let things get to the point where he thought he could have his way with me and that is my fault. I was frightened to refuse him in case he flew into a rage like I'd seen my father do so many times. I didn't know how my uncle would have reacted. But that is my entire fault. If id told someone I'd have been ruined. My reputation would have been tarnished forever. Not even Buckingham could have saved me from that fate." Athos shook his head in apparent disbelief and turned away from her then. "Athos I know I may have seemed very put together to you but I was still a child back then. You were paying particular attentions to my sister and everyone knew that you would marry her eventually. I was angry and upset and trying hopelessly to make you jealous. Buckingham brought new suitors with him every time he came from England and he practically threw them my way. If he'd known what had happened he wouldn't have done that any more. Granted it may only have been because he didn't want me to feel pressured or uncomfortable but I wouldn't have made a very good marriage prospect. What man would want me? All they would have seen in their minds was my uncle on top of me with one hand around my throat and the other trying to lift up my skirts!" Amorette slapped her hand over her mouth for the second time that day as she realised just what she'd said. Head down, she looked up at Athos through her eye-lashes expecting to find him embarrassed or ashamed of what she had said. Instead he just seemed sorry for her.

"A real friend wouldn't have told anyone. I do not have a high opinion of the duke of Buckingham but I know very little of your friendship with him. If George Villiers was really your friend he would have dealt with the matter discretely as I would also have done. How could you think that it was your fault in any way? You forget that I knew you as a child Mademoiselle and I know your character perhaps better than anyone. You mentioned that it happened to others as well so clearly your uncle needed no encouragement. He was a repeat offender who saw a pretty young woman and chose to take advantage of her. The fact that you were his niece just makes it all the more sinister. He had no right to treat you as such. And to think; the many times I met the man and I never would have suspected that he had such a depraved taste."

"He hid it very well," muttered Amorette.

"What about your father? He never knew?" Amorette shook her head. "Then some of the men in your life must accept some of the blame for what happened to you. It is our duty after all to protect the women that we care about. All those young friends you had and they never stepped in? Shame on them and shame on me! I'm sorry."

"It's done now, Athos. My uncle died four years ago and all of the horrid scandal died with it in my eyes. I don't ever spare it much thought. You shouldn't either." Amorette stared down at her shuffling feet. "Although I suppose that point is moot now, you'll not see me as you once did now that you know the truth-"

"If it is true that you did fight him off? And about his hands?" Amorette nodded as Athos' blue orbs scrutinised her expression, "Then my opinion has only changed in that I am even more proud to call you my friend. To know that you defended yourself and quite rightly had a sense of decorum about the matter only increases my esteem of you." Athos stepped closer to her and placed a hand on Amorette's shoulder. The palm of his hand rested upon the finely embroidered cotton of her dress but his thumb brushed against the exposed skin of her neck. Amorette forced herself not to dwell upon the way her heart fluttered at his touch. Looking down on her, he gave her shoulder a small squeeze. "The only disappointment I have is that you did not tell me. I understand why, but I do not understand how you came to feel that way. I suppose I should tell you that too is no fault of yours. Perhaps I was not as good a friend as I should have been at that time."

Amorette didn't trust herself to speak when she was stood so close to him. Instead she merely stared at his broad chest covered by his leather doublet. She could feel his eyes on the top of her head as she took a few steps back from him. Her shoulder was released from his grip and the moment was gone. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he motioned for her to follow him back to the house.

"There is still the business of Milady De Winter to conclude." Amorette noticed that Athos did not use the term sister, and thanked him for it.

"D'artagnan has gone to fetch the magistrate I presume?"

"Yes." Athos opened his mouth to speak again but seemed to think better of it. For a few moments there was silence as they both made their way back towards the house, Athos leading his horse behind him. "Mademoiselle I'm sure that you aren't aware of her connections. The magistrate will come and fetch her, and they may hold her for a few days but I must tell you that there is every chance that she will face no charges. Someone somewhere will have the power to pull some strings and then she will disappear to some obscure part of the world."

"I know," said Amorette. She turned to smile at him softly then, squinting a little as the sun shrouded her vision. "To put a few days distance between she and I is good enough. That and a carefully worded note to Buckingham and she will have to travel farther afield to be accepted. Buckingham will circulate her misdemeanours so well throughout France and England that she will have no choice but to leave. That trick she played on Baron Sheffield already has his brother; Lord De Winter baying for her blood. He and the Duke of Buckingham together will be a formidable force. She won't be received in England or most of France. That will have to be enough for me."

Amorette felt Athos' gaze upon her as they made the rest of the walk in silence. Deep down, there was an overwhelming urge within her to grab one of his pistols and shoot her sister with it. It was not a feeling that she would act upon though. That was the thing about people. It was perfectly reasonable to have those negative feelings towards someone, and to feel that life was better without them but to actually spur those thoughts into some sort of action was were a line was crossed. Everyone had bad thoughts because they were only human. Humanity was what stopped most people from letting those feelings consume them though. That was what had happened to Ann and Amorette was damned if she was going to let herself go the same way. She was better than that and would prove it.

 _ **So I guess in my opinion this is as bad as Milady could get. She only cares for herself, so it's logical that she wouldn't go all girl-power when her sister was attacked and rally around her. Instead she used it to gain herself some attention. The next chapter is in new setting, and things are going in a much different direction for Amorette. I think it's time for Athos and Amorette to dislike each other a little.**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**I only own Amorette.**_

Silence descended upon the tavern when Porthos burst through the door. For a few seconds he scanned the large room until he found his three friends sitting towards the back. He stopped just short of the table that D'artagnan, Athos and Aramis sat around and bent double as he tried to catch his breath. As the seconds trickled by the mumble of conversation broke out again.

"You'll never guess who is back at court!"

Dainty, pretty slippers stepped out of the carriage onto the snow dusted cobblestones of the courtyard of the Louvre Palace and Amorette gasped as she looked up. Despite her vision being slightly obscured by the brim of her hat, she was still taken aback by the splendour of the Louvre. She winced a little as her new slippers rubbed against the back of her ankle rather painfully. She should have worn them in a little. They were in a new style and not something Amorette would normally have chosen but they went with the dress and hat. The whole outfit was in fact not something that Amorette would have ever picked out for herself. The deep purple colour had alarmed her slightly when she had dressed earlier that day. Amorette thought that it washed her out a little, but when she had pinned her hair up and placed the hat on her head she had admitted rather reluctantly to herself that she would cut a very stylish form when she attended court.

The hallways of the Louvre were bustling with chatter as Amorette made her way towards the presence chamber. She felt her cheeks burn red as she noticed more than one Madam admiring her dress and quickened her pace. Praise was still not something she felt entirely comfortable with, even after all these years. Bustling into the presence chamber amid the rustling of her dress, Amorette was tempted to tear the hat from her head and stamp up on down in it. She hated attention of any kind, and now she was about to become the focus of all of Paris court. That had probably been Buckingham's plan all along in purchasing the dress for her. Sighing with exertion Amorette made herself sit on her hands so that she wouldn't fuss with the dress.

When her old friend finally met her in the presence chamber, Amorette finally understood her flamboyant dress. The Duke of Buckingham was wearing a suit of exactly the same shade of deep purple silk. Amorette snorted with laughter as Buckingham grinned. Closing the door behind him he came to sit beside her on the bench. "You just couldn't help yourself could you?" Amorette cried as she grabbed a fistful of her skirts and shook it in his direction.

Smirking, Buckingham slid a gentle arm around her shoulder. "We'll cut quite the form dressed in the newest fashions. No one in Paris is wearing a dress cut that way yet. You'll be the talk of court. You deserve such an entrance."

Amorette winced. "George you know I don't want to make an entrance. I'd rather they were in awe of someone else."

"Too late for that now isn't it!" Buckingham let a light chuckle escape his lips and tapped the brim of Amorette's hat. You suit a hat by the way. It's quite becoming you know. My wife hasn't the head for hats, they look awful on her but you really do look quite the fashionista. So, is he here tonight?"

Amorette glanced at her friend hesitantly before deciding to play dumb. "Is who here?"

"The musketeer," Buckingham muttered just as a steward opened the door and motioned for them to follow him.

"How should I know, and why would I care," said Amorette as Buckingham offered her his arm and she took it.

Clasping Buckingham's arm tightly, Amorette felt a little less frightened by what was about to happen. "Come now Mademoiselle, we both know you care very much. But I'm not one to cause you any unnecessary embarrassment so I'll save the conversation for another time."

Amorette squeezed his upper arm. "Don't go off and leave me George. Chances are I won't know anyone in that room." All the reply she received was a stiff nod as they reached a set of double doors. Amorette sucked in short sharp breaths as the doors swung open and they were greeted with the sight of a long hall lined with courtiers.

"The Duke of Buckingham and the Cometess De La Feuillette!"

As they were announced and took their first few steps into the room, the people nearest turned to face them. Immediately a cacophony of whispers broke out and rippled through the crowd towards the dais where the King and Queen sat. Amorette tried to drown out the whispers in full knowledge that they were all about Buckingham's return to court. She tried to hurry her steps a little in anticipation of reaching the end of the hall but she was jolted back by Buckingham's slow pace. She turned to watch her friend who walked with an air of exuberant confidence that seemed odd considering that everyone was looking at him with disgust and disdain. Buckingham's resolve didn't waver though. He looked everyone who sneered at him in the eye and smiled at them as if he was greeting old friends. Taking a deep breath Amorette tried to smile too. After all, this spectacle was all about Buckingham and relatively no one here would know of her very well. So she smiled, and swung her hips a little as she walked so that her dress sashed along. Buckingham seemed to sense her back straightening and her chin rising because he squeezed the hand that held his arm.

They carried on walking slowly through the throng of people who parted to let them pass along the varnished floor. Although it was overcast outside the snow filled clouds still draped the room in a fresh, crisp sort of light. Amorette let her eyes glance skyward towards the magnificent crystal chandelier as they passed under it. Although the whispering continued Amorette barely heard it. She concentrated on how her shoes pinched her feet as she walked and of the King and Queen that now came into focus at the end of the long hallway. A sudden jerk of her arm had Amorette looking to Buckingham, but his eye line was directed away from her. Following it curiously Amorette realised that she had been wrong. There was someone here who knew her after all.

Athos was staring at her with shock and sheer disappointment in his features. Amorette knew that it was because she was with Buckingham; a man that the musketeers despised. She couldn't really understand his shock. She had known Buckingham almost as long as she had known Athos so why shouldn't she arrive with him. The disappointment, well that was completely unfounded and it struck a nerve with Amorette. As they reached Athos and his three friends Amorette held her chin up high and smirked. A side glance to Athos told her that he had seen it, and that he wasn't pleased. He glanced back at her then and caught her eye for a second before she forced herself to look away.

Amorette felt as if her heart might burst through her chest as they moved on through the hall. She was desperate to turn her head and look back towards Athos but she forced herself to look straight ahead now towards the Queen. At length they reached the dais and were announced again. Both the King and Queen looked upon Buckingham with trepidation but when the Queen turned her attention towards Amorette she gave a small nervous smile.

"Cometess we are glad to see you return to French court. We hope you shall stay in Paris for long enough for us to come to know you better this time. Have you been assigned rooms to your liking?"

Amorette was a little taken aback by being favoured so openly, and hesitated in her response. "I…I've taken rooms with his Grace the Duke, your Majesty."

A flicker of apprehension crossed the Queen's face before she spoke again. "Very well; if circumstances warrant your need of rooms here at the palace during your stay you must make us aware of it." Just like that the Queen's attention was upon someone else and Amorette and Buckingham were dismissed. Still arm in arm, they were directed towards a door to the right of the dais.

"That's a nice hat," exclaimed Porthos.

"The question is, who bought her such a hat and why?" Athos said, his eyes still trained on the purple wide brimmed English style chevalier hat as the feathers bobbed along above all of the other hats.

Aramis looked at Athos quizzically. "Why does it matter? Surely Mademoiselle Amorette is wealthy enough to purchase her own hats?"

Athos shook his head grimly. "The Cometess that I know doesn't adhere to such frivolities as the heights of fashion. She wouldn't have picked something so gregarious and attention-seeking. The dress and the hat, even the shoes will have been a gift from someone."

It was D'artagnan's turn to look puzzled. "So Mademoiselle Amorette is not allowed to accept gifts now?"

"She walked the hall with the Duke of Buckingham, and I'll hazard a guess that he bought the gifts. I think perhaps the Madam has been bought. She is half English after all. I'm sure it wouldn't really take that much persuasion to influence her."

Aramis moved to stand in front of Athos then. "Personally I think your underestimating her." When he turned, it was to find Athos glaring at him with raised eyebrows. Athos gave no other reply though, and all four musketeers turned to look though the doorway through which Amorette and Buckingham had vanished.

Venturing into the smaller, more chatter filled chamber Amorette felt much more comfortable. Here everyone was involved in their own conversations and no one turned to watch them as they entered and began to meander through the couplets and quartets of people. Just as they were passing a large group of men who seemed to be having a rather serious discussion, Buckingham tugged on the sleeve of one of the men.

"Weston you old dog!" Buckingham cried when the man had turned to face him. Amorette supposed the man must have been in his late thirties, with slightly greying hair and an air of capability about him. Despite looking older he was still what would have been classed as handsome. He was taller than most of the men in the room, with a light stubble gracing his chin and curious grey eyes. As he clasped Buckingham's hand and whispered a mischievous greeting Amorette desperately tried to place the name. He was English, that much was clear but was he a descendant of the Weston who had sailed with Sir Francis Drake? Amorette supposed that he could also have been the Weston whose name adorned a little book of poetry that she had been gifted a few months ago, but she knew that man was in fact much older than the one before her. She settled instead though for his Excellency L'Ambassadeur anglais en France Jerome Weston.

When he turned to her with a gracious smile Amorette realised that Buckingham must have introduced her and she returned his smile. When he bent to kiss her hand the slightest scratch of stubble from his long chin snaked over her skin and inside Amorette shuddered a little. She wasn't sure what to make of those mysterious cold eyes that hid everything. The moment was forgotten very quickly though as he offered to make introductions for them. Amorette let Buckingham follow his friend and decided to hang back a little. It was Amorette who needed introduced though, and she knew it.

Amorette was on her third glass of wine by the time they had completely circled the outside of the room with the English Ambassador. In truth, she barely remembered a single name and the face that belonged to it. Whilst the hall had been full of women admiring the dresses of the new faces, this chamber held mostly men who had very little interest in her dress. They were interested in Buckingham though. A few had greeted him cordially, and some had even been extremely friendly. Others though had blatantly blanked and snubbed him.

Buckingham was still in deep discussions with Jerome Weston, so Amorette began to look blandly around the room. Spotting an empty corner she made the split second decision to retreat to it, picking up another glass of wine along the way. Before she reached the corner though, she noticed that two other young women had seemingly shared her idea and were fighting their way through the throng. Amorette was suddenly apprehensive about crossing paths with them. Would they dismiss her rudely, or not even acknowledge her at all? She needn't have worried though.

The slightly older of the two smiled warmly at her. "Your dress is divine!" she simpered. Sunshine blonde hair piled high on her head and soft hazel eyes met Amorette's gaze as she stared at the doll-like figure before her. The tall hairstyle wobbled slightly as the Madam tilted her head to the side, waiting for Amorette's reply. Amorette smiled simply. "Thank you but you should really pay the compliment to my friend as he picked the dress, not me." Amorette let her gaze stray to the other lady. She was slightly taller and skinnier than her friend but with Auburn hair and pale sapphire eyes she was just as pretty, and also offered a friendly smile. Despite being suspicious of everyone due to Buckingham's rather disgruntled welcome Amorette decided to judge for herself that these two women were trustworthy and amiable. Amorette hadn't had a friend who was her equal in situation in a very long time. So, ignoring the etiquette of waiting for someone else to introduce them Amorette stuck out her hand on impulse, "Amorette Du Gilliory."

"Madam Claude Morreaux," said the blonde haired lady. "And this is Madame Constance D'artagnan." Amorette brought her gaze to Constance and the wedding band worn upon her left hand which confirmed that she was D'artagnan's wife and not his sister. She smiled meekly, not sure whether Constance would know of her or not, but a knowing smile that appeared on the other woman's face assured Amorette that she had.

"Yes I've heard of you Cometess," said Constance as she took Amorette's hand in her own. "I'm glad to make your acquaintance at last although I did not have the impression that you would be returning to court so soon!"

Amorette nodded. "Yes I had thought it rather a way off myself. But here I am. Do you know the Lenoir's? I travelled from Toulouse with them recently. I was companion to Madam Lenoir for a time in Spain."

"Spain?" Claude stammered. "Surely you mean along the border just? That's hardly safe!"

"The Lenoir's are welcome in Spain, as are their friends." Amorette sincerely regretted opening her mouth, and decided to try to explain away the situation. "They have friends and family there. You know what they say though, the whole of Christendom may be at war with France, but war with Paris is unthinkable." Chuckling lightly, Amorette watched Claude's frown dissipate into a small smile, but Constance still seemed a little unsure about her statement.

Suddenly Claude was whispering about some intrigue to Constance and Amorette felt that their conversation might be over and turned to glance around the room. She was shocked when a bejewelled hand clasped her elbow and Claude pulled her towards them so that she was only a hairs breadth away from her face. Suddenly Amorette found herself in a situation that she had never been in before. Here she was with two other young women, discussing some of the disastrous fashions statements that had been made at court that day and admiring the young men around the room. Amorette had never had female friends that she had been able to discuss such things openly and freely with and these women and accepted her into their confidence almost without a second thought.

Strangely, Amorette felt quite at home with Claude and Constance. There was a security with them that she had not found with other women. Amorette was more used to young catty Mademoiselles fighting over dashing Vicomtes and the latest fashions but tonight she was accompanied by two married women who wanted nothing more than to enjoy their evening. Amorette circled the room with her new found friends as they drank more wine and received an approving nod from Buckingham as they passed him. At length though the two Madame's decided to wander back into the hall again and Amorette followed, feeling a little more confident now that she was not completely on her own. She was introduced to women wherever they walked, and she knew she would remember very little of the names. Claude and Constance were reassuring though and promised to help her remember names when the need arose for it.

The hall was a stifling press of bodies and the wafting of fans seemed to do little to ease perspiration. Amorette could feel her coifed hairstyle beginning to sink a little with the humidity and ducked out unto a small balcony. Resting against the balustrade she pulled her hat pin free to re-position her hat. The cool air tickled the back of her neck and she took a moment to breathe fresh air before replacing her hat upon her head. Not wanting to lose her new friends in the throng of people Amorette decided to return to the hall. Turning on her heel she collided with hard muscle. Taking a second to steady herself, she then looked up with the intention of apologising, but when she did she was met with the incensed blue eyes of Athos. He was blocking her path towards the doorway and when Amorette tried to walk around him he grabbed her arm.

"What one earth do you think you are doing, associating with that man? He can be of no help to you at Paris court! Everyone here hates him!" Athos snarled as Amorette twisted her arm in his grip so that he had no choice but to release it.

"I assume you mean Buckingham?" Amorette asked haughtily as she pulled herself up to her full height. "I've known Buckingham almost as long as I've known you for God's sake! He's been a good friend to me recently and as I think you will well know I'm not in the habit of judging someone based on other small minded people's opinions of them!"

"If you think that you know that man then you are wrong!" Athos stepped even closer to her then so that they were almost nose to nose. "He will only bring you down with him."

"Do you really think my judgement so poor? Perhaps our friendship is of mutual benefit? Perhaps Buckingham requires my friendship just as much as I require his? We have many agreements and all of them fair, and even without all of that our families have been allies since before we were born. We are not restricted to formalities and the discipline with which everyone holds noblewomen in this world. He judges me as an equal, not as a woman."

At that Athos snorted and shook his head. "If you're so appreciative of him then why don't you marry him and have done with it! Oh wait, he has a wife back in England and mistresses in every court he's ever had the pleasure to visit! I had hoped a man like Buckingham would have been an obvious danger to you, but clearly I was wrong-"

"How dare you!" Amorette cried. "The duke of Buckingham and I are trusted friends! That does not mean that we hoped into bed with each other at the earliest opportunity! Not every relationship in the world needs to be compared to yours and mine or that of yours and my sister! Unlike a lot of men in this world Buckingham sees women as more than just an heir carrier! You know; I really don't care for such insinuations! As a matter of fact, his wife is a good friend of mine and I would never do such a thing to someone I called a friend! I'm not my sister Athos. They are my friends; which is more than I can say for you after this conversation!" Amorette stormed past him, their shoulders thumping against each other as she went. She crossed the threshold into the hall only to find Constance just inside with a mortified expression on her face.

"What was that all about?" she stammered.

"You heard?" Amorette questioned. Constance gave a stiff nod of the head. "Yes well, Athos and I were always going to lock horns on the topic of the Duke of Buckingham. It's only natural. I should not have been so outspoken though. I don't have to justify myself to him!" Constance simply stood quietly and Amorette supposed she was not the best person to vent to. After all, she was married to one of Athos' closest friends. "Do you know, I'm rather tired and this room is frightfully warm? I think I'll away for the night." Amorette reconsidered her words as she thought they sounded a bit rude. Still trying to calm her breathing she tried to catch sight of Claude in the crowd but she was nowhere to be seen. "Although I would like to get to know you and Claude better! I know no one else here in Paris."

Constance nodded, relief flooding her features when she saw Amorette's anger dissipating. "Yes; let's have tea tomorrow! I'll let Claude know. Where should we call upon you?" 

"Oh don't come to me! I'll come to the palace; I expect to have an audience with the Queen tomorrow as it is, so I'll be about."

Saying their good-byes, Amorette left in search of the door. Looking back just before she left the room she was just able to discern Athos and Constance talking quietly together.

As she made her way back through the palace, it occurred to Amorette that the growing darkness would mean that any flower markets would be closed by now, rendering her late night errand almost moot. On impulse she plucked a single peony from a large vase as she went.

A short walk from the Louvre Palace led Amorette to the Cimetière des Innocent. In the darkness that now enveloped her, Amorette was surprised to find herself feeling rather calm and comforted in the cold night air. She knew what awaited her amid the mounds of old and freshly piled earth and resolved to carry on. Dotted about here and there was the odd cross or marble marker of a grave, but Amorette knew that this cemetery held mostly unmarked mass graves now. Being the largest in Paris and in the les Halles district it was the largest in the city. There was also the smell to contend with. The putrid stench of rotting flesh that got steadily worse as Amorette wound her way through the gravesites was also not unexpected, but she had not anticipated just how bad it would be. In the dim light of lanterns that were hanging from posts that lined the path, Amorette stopped to fish out a handkerchief from a deep pocket of her skirts to cover her nose.

Amorette had the sense before she left her rooms earlier to apply a little perfume to her handkerchief and as she clutched the embroidered cloth to her face she breathed in the fresh lavender smell gently. At length her steps slowed until she was at a stop. A simple cross adorned the grave that she had come to visit. Amorette could see her breath it was so cold, but she forced herself to close her eyes and stand for a few minutes, contemplating whether anyone had even attended the burial. She was so deep into the cemetery that most of the late night city sounds couldn't reach her. Thinking, she realised; was overrated. Opening her eyes and banishing the thoughts that plagued her mind, Amorette let a shiver escape her and decided that she had paid more than enough respects. Holding her hand above the mound of earth she let the peony drop. It occurred to her then that she may never return here and when she looked about her she was glad for it. Amorette realised that she had let her handkerchief come away and just as she pulled it back towards her face, the sound of a catch on a musket being released resounded in her ears.

Turning swiftly, Amorette almost laughed at the sight that met her. "Four armed men for one unarmed woman?" Amorette cried as she waved her hands in front of her. "Are you sure all this is entirely necessary?"

Aramis, Porthos and D'artagnan at least had the good grace to look sheepish and lowered their drawn pistols but Athos kept his aloft and pointed straight at her. Amorette watched as Aramis threw Athos a chastising look but it had no effect whatsoever. "Why are you here?" Athos asked gruffly.

Amorette shook her head incredulously, shocked that the man that she had once called friend could look upon her so accusingly. "I travelled with the Lenoir's from Spain to return to Paris Court." Amorette ensured that some abruptness lingered in her tone.

"Traveling with Spanish sympathisers and taking rooms with the second most powerful man in England. Tell me Madam, what are your intentions for returning to Paris court?" Athos' words were laced with suspicion.

Amorette's mouth opened and closed repeatedly for a few seconds as she stumbled over his words. "Do you think I am some sort of spy Monsieur?" When Athos stared back Stoically Amorette's reaction wasn't quick enough to stop the chuckle that escaped her mouth with her hand. "That's ludicrous! The Lenoir's are loyal to the French crown!"

"They have been embroiled in some rather incriminating Spanish schemes over the years." Porthos mumbled.

"You're actually serious aren't you?" Amorette squirmed as she made eye contact with Athos and his scrutiny unnerved her. "I've done nothing to warrant your accusations and neither have my friends. Now if you don't mind it's rather cold and I've got places to be."

Amorette moved to barge past Athos for the second time that night, but thought better of it when his pistol was thrust even closer to her face. "Athos!" Aramis' hissed warning went unheeded and Amorette was forced to stare down the barrel of the musket. For a few minutes no one spoke and Amorette was fully aware that they were waiting for her to provide some explanation or excuse.

When she spoke, it was with carefully controlled incensed anger. "I met the Lenoir's in Madrid. Madam Lenoir needed a travel companion and I needed to leave Spain in rather a hurry." Amorette saw Aramis' eyebrow quirk at that, but he appeared to be the only one if them to notice. "It seemed the perfect solution for both of us. There was no ulterior motive in it and not one of us has any designs upon the French crown; and never will have. I'm half French and half English for goodness sake, why on earth would I be in league with the Spanish? That makes no sense at all!"

For a few seconds silence gripped them again and Amorette couldn't fathom what Athos was thinking. "Why are you here?"

"Didn't…what…didn't you hear a word-" Amorette began to stammer before she was interrupted.

Athos jerked his pistol in the direction of the wooden cross behind Amorette. "I mean here!"

Amorette's jaw dropped. "Paying my respects to my dead sister, I should have thought that was obvious! Do you really think I'm some sort of Spanish turncoat now?"

Athos ignored the last question. "Respect? She never showed you any in all her life? You owe her nothing!"

"I'm here out of respect for my poor mother! You're right, I owe Ann nothing but I owe it to myself! Is this your first visit Athos? Have you even been here before? Did you come to the burial?"

"I paid for it!" he growled.

"But it you watch the burial? Of course you didn't. You see Athos if I let her scare me into staying away then I become like her. The fact that I have the ability to come here and pay her my respects shows our stark differences. I am nothing like my sister. If I'd stayed away then she would have won! I don't want to become bitter and twisted because of what my sister did to me! I won't lower myself to her level. I won't let myself become cold like you have! That's something that even your friends cannot deny. Perhaps if you had done the same you would not have lost so much of your own self as to stoop to accusing me of being a traitor. Goodnight Messieurs!" Amorette turned on her heel to storm off, but she sensed Athos brandishing his pistol in her direction again.

Turning to him with raised eyebrows, she said "Oh come on Athos! You and I both know that you don't even think that I'm worth the musket ball!"

Amorette turned and continued to walk away, the feather plums of her hat bouncing up and down with her movement. "That went well," muttered D'artagnan who had been silent for the whole conversation.

"There's something she's not telling us!" Athos declared. "I'll wager that she and Buckingham have some form of scheme that they have concocted."

"Athos," Aramis placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Didn't you catch what she said? I don't think she's here because someone is paying her or employing her by some means. She said she needed to leave Spain in a hurry! She's not running _to_ something, _she's_ running from something!"

 _ **So yes, Milady is now dead for the purposes of this story. Any love between Amorette and Athos is still a little way off, but it certainly wouldn't happen with Milady still around. This chapter is roughly set in 1633 but The Duke of Buckingham or George Villiers was actually executed in 1628. So again for the purposes of this story I've kept him alive. Actually, I rather like Buckingham even though he is a snake.**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**I only own Amorette.**_

It took a few weeks for the snow and sludge to disappear from Paris completely, leaving behind it a crisp cool wind that blustered between the buildings and rattled over the Pont Neuf towards Les Halles. For the first time in days when Amorette left Buckingham's apartments in the Rue des Minimes, she walked upon dry ground. The day before, heavy hailstones had prevented her from venturing out at all and thus her plans to meet with Claude Morreaux had to be cancelled. Today though, more people lined the streets of the Marais and then the district of Le Halles as she meandered her way through the streets towards the Louvre Palace. Amorette knew that she was a little early, so she took her time. Yet another new pair of heeled slippers were smarting her feet but this time it was because of the heel. The jade silk lining of the shoes was as soft as the touch of a feather but the heel was a little higher than Amorette was used to and not ideal for walking any great distances. Secretly, she rather enjoyed the extra height that they provided, but height alone wouldn't get her all the way to the Louvre.

Small careful steps took her through the Places de Royale and out onto the Rue Saint Antoine. From there it was almost a straight walk to the Louvre Palace. Along the way she met Constance, and the two women chatted amicably as the made their way through the Palace gates. Although Amorette liked both Claude and Constance in equal measure, she had yet to spend much time with Constance and as such their conversation remained one of neutral civility. With Claude though, she had become much better acquainted. Being four or five years older than her, Claude was already married with three children. The pivotal information Amorette had learned about Claude though, was that she was bored. Married for ten years to a man she didn't really like, let alone love; Claude was more than happy to spend as much time as possible away from him. Amorette had felt guilt gnawing at her insides for the last few days though. Claude seemed to palm her children off to their governess or nanny rather a lot, but she supposed that was how it was done in Paris if you were a Queen's lady and sick of your husband.

Ironically that day they found Claude in her own rooms with her children. She sent for the governess almost as soon as they arrived and Amorette couldn't help thinking that she should suggest staying here with the children and simply having tea. That wouldn't happen though. Constance scuttled off after a few moments as she needed to return to the Queen, and Amorette and Claude were left to their own devices. Amorette had spent most days like this since she returned to Paris. She had barely seen Buckingham except to say good-morning and good-night and although she had spoken to D'artagnan a few times when he was in the company of Constance, she had yet to have contact with Porthos, Aramis or Athos apart from seeing them from afar when they were on duty.

Despite Amorette's guilty feelings about Claude's neglect of her children, she knew that she would have been lost without her new friend. Claude had guided Amorette through her first few weeks at court and Amorette felt that she almost didn't need Claude at her side now. She ventured round the halls and gardens of the Palace alone more with each day that passed. It was something that Amorette never thought she would feel comfortable doing, but now she requested to be introduced to courtiers herself instead of at the prompt of friends. Strangely, she felt at home now.

One worry she still held onto though, was how her friends the Lenoir's would be received when they returned to Court. They were not in favour of the war with Spain and had made that very clear. Amorette had already noticed a little talk and speculation about her own time in Madrid and felt eyes upon her when she walked in particular areas of the Palace. Today, to her discontent those eyes belonged to Athos. She and Claude were walking in a long gallery and Athos was on duty at the end of the walkway, but he seemed to have eyes and ears only for Amorette's conversation. She didn't show her uneasiness. Instead Amorette held her head high and spoke clearly to ensure that Athos heard every word. She wasn't about to knowingly appear to be hiding something from Athos when he clearly thought her guilty of something she hadn't done. Amorette could just imagine Athos' reaction when the Lenoir's arrived in Paris in a few days. His mind would be in overdrive with all sorts of conspiracy theories jarring his thoughts. Amorette just hoped the rumour mill would remain quiet.

When the Lenoir's finally did arrive in Paris three days later, it was in a different manner than Amorette expected. She was returning from a rather chilly walk in the Jardin de Tuileres with the Queen and Claude when Amorette spotted them. Monsieur Lenoir and his wife and eldest daughter were frog-marched though the hall, surrounded by an armed guard.

"What's going on?" Amorette cried. "Monsieur! Monsieur Lenoir!" Lenoir turned to Amorette with a blank expression as he passed her, and the look in his eyes was a clear warning.

"Amorette this is not a time to intervene." Claude grabbed a fistful of the back of Amorette's skirts as she tried to lurch forward. "Now would be a time to remain quiet about your connection to that family." As she spoke Claude nodded towards a few musketeers who brought up the rear of the guard that had turned to look at her curiously.

Falling back into line with Claude and the Queen, Amorette watched as her friends were led into the next room. With nothing more than a nod of the head to them, the queen followed. Just as Amorette turned to express her confusion to Claude she noticed Aramis marching the length of the hall after the party. Amorette lurched forward again and this time Claude wasn't quick enough to stop her.

"Aramis what's going on? Where are they taking the Lenoir's?" As she spoke Amorette grabbed a hold of the sleeve of his leather jerkin to halt his long strides.

Aramis shook off her hand gently, looking about him as he did so. In a quiet voice he said "Mademoiselle I do not think you should implicate yourself in these matters. I'm almost certain that Athos has mentioned your friendship with the Lenoir family to our captain. I think enough suspicion is upon your shoulders."

"But their daughter is just a child!" Amorette cried.

"I'm aware of that," he whispered. "I've already brought that point to my captain's attention but I believe he thought it might cause the child distress to be separated from her parents!"

"Let me take care of her then! She knows me! Hand her over to my care!" Amorette grabbed Aramis' sleeve again and this time he didn't shake her off.

Aramis sighed heavily has he deliberated what she had said. "Mademoiselle don't take this the wrong way but I don't think that's the best course of action to take. Do you recall as I do another time when we handed a young woman into your care when we believed her innocent and you almost died? Besides, I do not think they will be locked away. They are political prisoners of a kind. At the most they could be placed under house arrest and be confined to their rooms for a time." His warm brown eyes looked on her sympathetically then. "Don't worry for them. They won't be locked in the Bastille Mademoiselle."

With that Aramis marched off and Amorette was left dumfounded. Why on earth would Athos have mentioned her friendship to the Lenoir's so quickly. She knew that he thought her a spy of some sort but why would he knowingly implicate someone who had once been a close friend when he had no proof that she was guilty of any real wrong-doing. Amorette shook her head in confusion as she turned back to Claude.

"I think Aramis is right, you know. Perhaps I should stay away from court for a few days until this has blown over. I don't want to cause any more problems for my friends." Claude nodded solemnly. "I'm not hiding away though. You know where Buckingham's apartments are, so make it clear that I'm more than happy to help by providing information or answering questions if it will help my friends."

Again Claude nodded. "Yes I think that's the right choice to make. There are times when we should make as much ruckus as we want and others when we must choose dignified silence. Come, I'll walk you out." 

Amorette had thought that her decision to remove herself from court for a day or two was a sensible one. She didn't want to influence any beliefs or judgements of her friends. Buckingham however, took a different view of the circumstances.

"If it were me," he said flamboyantly as he lounged on a chaise, "I'd be making sure everyone at court saw my face. I'd never leave. You shouldn't be hiding here because you think it will help your friends. I've half a mind to send you scurrying back. If you attend court as if nothing fazes you and you have nothing to hide then you will absolve yourself of guilt in the eyes of the courtiers. You should be there as a support for your friends who have clearly been wrongly accused of something."

George that's easy for you to say. Athos has it in for me, remember. If he thinks I'm some sort of traitor and that I'm passing information to Spain then that cannot help the Lenoir's. I don't want to influence anyone's opinion of them." Amorette sat on the end of the chaise and rubbed her chin in thought. "What can I do to help them though?"

"Help them?" Buckingham asked. "Go back to court and hold your head high. Repeatedly ask after the well-being of the family and speak fondly of them. Give them your backing. After all of my schooling you still don't have a very high opinion of yourself. You're quite influential you know, and not just because you are wealthy. You're a beautiful, intelligent young woman who always exudes an air of honesty and reliability. Go to the king, stand before him and plead the Lenoir's case. He'll buy it, trust me." Buckingham sat up and squeezed her hand gently in reassurance. Amorette watched his eyes roving over her body as he lay back down again. "And I'd take that shawl off before you do so!"

"Why?" Amorette queried.

"My dear, you have the most wondrous eyes that could safely be declared your best asset when you are encased in that shawl. Without it though, and with the low cut collar of that dress you'll render every man in the room incapable of thinking straight." Buckingham chuckled lightly as Amorette removed the shawl from her shoulders and hit him with it playfully. "I'm serious Amorette. I bought that style of dress because I was determined to see you show yourself off a bit more and instead you cover it with some god-awful shawl and hide yourself away."

Jumping up from the Chaise, Buckingham took her hand and led her into her bedroom and stood her before her mirror. Looking at him over her shoulder, Amorette wasn't quite sure what the purpose of his demonstration was until he pulled her slumped shoulders back and pushed her chin up. "I know how well you can give the impression of being an influential and powerful woman when you want to. I've seen you do it. You need to start believing it even when you're alone. Then you might begin to see what I see. It's all well and good to pretend to be something, but the pretence won't last long if you are beaten down by your own thoughts. You would never let your true misconceptions about yourself show even when you are in a room with Athos, so why do you crumble when you are alone?" One of Buckingham's hands still rested on her shoulder and Amorette jerked so that it slid off.

"Alright, I'll go back to court," Amorette hastily agreed to end the awkward conversation. She wandered back out into the parlour to lift her hat and Buckingham followed.

"Before you go," Buckingham simpered as he snatched up Amorette's shawl before she could reach it, "There's a little something I have been meaning to ask of you. It might just take your mind from all of this business with the Lenoir's too."

Amorette turned to look at her friend and saw a curious excitement in his face. "Oh George not another one of your schemes!"

"There's always one more Madam." Buckingham chuckled lightly and sat again. "The English Ambassador Jerome Weston and I may appear to be friendly acquaintances but there is an old rivalry that has lain dormant since we were teenagers. I want you to get close to him, distract him."

"Let me guess," sighed Amorette. "You want to seduce his wife?" Amorette knew Buckingham too well and when he smiled at her knowingly she covered her eyes with her hand and shook her head. "George I can't help you do that! It goes against everything I believe in as a woman to do something like that!"

"What if it's what the Madam wants too? You'd be hindering true love! You know how it feels not to be with the one you love!" Buckingham crossed the room and held Amorette's free hand whilst she tried to pin her hat with the other.

"George you don't love her!" Amorette cried exasperatedly.

"Granted, no we do not love each other but we want each other. Besides, there's another reason I want you to get close to Weston. I think he knows more about the Anglo-Spanish plight than he's letting on. You're half English, so he might just tell you something if you play your cards right."

Amorette shook her head, confusion marring her features. "Why would he tell me? I don't know how you think he can be involved in anything to do with Spain when he's at the heart of Paris court."

Buckingham looked up at her appraisingly from where he sat. "My dear has everything that I just said fallen on completely deaf ears? With that dress and those breasts I really don't think he'll need much persuasion. Our first night in Paris, when I introduced you to him; he told me he liked the look of you." Amorette stood with her hat in her hand, watching her friend. She knew just how much trouble she could end up in when she involved herself in Buckingham's schemes but she also felt as if she should help Buckingham. Despite his reputation, Buckingham had been a good friend to her and Amorette wanted to help him in return. She didn't feel that she owed it to him, or that it was expected of her. Rather she felt that he deserved her help. He sighed exasperatedly as she deliberated. "Amorette I wouldn't ask if I thought it was unnecessary but with this I don't feel that I can trust anyone else to be as discrete as you! I think Weston is withholding vital English information here in Paris. I don't think he's here to work with France, but against it. I can't say more as I know nothing for certain, but if I looked into it myself he would suspect my interference."

Amorette gave in with a sigh. "Oh alright, but what is it that you need me to find out?"

"Anything that you think is of importance. For now, just get close to him. Enough so that he brings you into his confidences but I'm not asking you do anything that makes you uncomfortable. Strike up a friendship, flirt a little. He's a sucker for a pretty face. You're relatively new to court and he'll like that. He'll think that he can influence you."

In the days that passed, Amorette threw herself into her task of praising the Lenoir's. There really was no need for her protestations about their capture as they were held within respectable rooms in the palace and were well cared for. No one else at court really seemed that concerned with the situation and that reassured Amorette a little. If it wasn't a serious talking point then Amorette thought that it must not be as serious as she thought. After four days of pleading she was finally permitted entrance to the Lenoir's temporary rooms on the pretence of bringing the women some clothes.

Sitting around the table in their small but comfortable apartments, the tension was palpable. Amorette couldn't really understand why the family was so anxious, but they were. Conversation about their treatment since returning to Paris had long dried up and Madam Lenoir now sat wringing her hands nervously in her lap. "The fact that you are being well treated can only be a good thing," said Amorette after a long pause. "It shows the mark of respect the king has for you all!"

"It shows the respect he has for our influence and power should the King's suspicions be wrong! He wants to be sure he won't cause a civil war with his accusations. If these rumours about us are proved false which they will be, the King believes we will scurry off into hiding and thank him for treating us so well." Monsieur Lenoir banged his fist on the table in anger and Amorette was so startled that she jumped up out of her seat. She had never seen anger like that in the man before, and his wife who usually chided him sat silent and unmoving.

"I've decided," began Amorette, "That I will speak to the King on your behalf. I will have these silly rumours quashed and in no time you will be back at home with the other children." At once Madam Lenoir made a jerking movement and let out a sob. Watching as her husband turned to look at her angrily; Amorette knew that something was definitely amiss. "Where are the other children?" Amorette asked worriedly. When no one spoke Amorette cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak but the look that ghosted across Madam Lenoir's face sent a chill right through her body.

"Your majesty I wish to speak for the Lenoir family. I know it is a little unprecedented for a woman to do so, but I believe wholeheartedly in their innocence and cannot stand idly by whilst they are treated thus. I implore you to at least hand their young daughter over to my care. They have done nothing wrong and have co-operated fully in your investigation. I know it has run aground now and you cannot keep them locked up indefinitely." Amorette kept her breathing to a slow pace, fully aware of the admiring glances already trained on the rise and fall of her large bosom. She was pained to admit it, but it was a trick she had learned from her sister.

"Your words of support are appreciated," nodded the Queen and Amorette gave a small smile in return. She was sure of at least one ally in the room.

When the King's roving eyes settled on her face, Amorette wasn't sure what reaction to expect. She knew very well that for some within the room, she had spoken out of turn. She gave a little inaudible sigh of relief when the King nodded in agreement with the Queen. "Yes your courage does you credit. I'm sure it took a lot of nerve to stand before the court and support the family so openly when no one else does. Cometess what you have said will be taken into account and while the investigation has run aground it is still in progress. Rest assured, when we reach a resolution you will hear of it."

Just like that Amorette felt herself dismissed. The King looked away towards one of his advisors and whispered something and she felt eyes upon her that admonished her for not moving on. Pulling her shoulders back a little, Amorette recalled Buckingham's words from earlier that week. She had the power to control a room and to make heads turn; she just had to find it. "Your majesty there is another matter regarding the Lenoir family that I wish to relate to you." Amorette surprised herself with the tone of iron within her voice. The king turned back to her not with an annoyed glance, but with interest. "What I am about to divulge was told to me in confidence and I know you will understand what risks I take in breaking that confidence, but I have been left with no choice." Amorette took a breath to steady herself and tried to banish the crippling nerves that came from having a room full of courtiers hanging on your every word. Buckingham might have seen this power within her and wished for its use, but Amorette thought it a rather dangerous tool. "The Lenoir's have two younger children, a boy and girl. Those children are not staying with relatives in the Loire Valley, but are in fact captives of a band of Spanish mercenaries." Amorette paused for a second and heard the dramatic intakes of breath all around the room. "The children were captured and used as leverage to extract information from their parents about the French crown. It seems Spain had intelligence that Monsieur Lenoir may be privy to vital information. I believe he was an agent of Cardinal Richelieu some time ago-"

Amorette was interrupted by the booming voice of Cardinal Mazarin who stood to the side of the dais upon which the King and Queen sat. "Cometess you have come here to plead for your friends and have admitted their guilt almost at the same time! You have said it yourself; they have been passing information over the border, regardless of their forced hand." The Cardinal strode out into the room and stopped just short of Amorette. He was not a tall man and Amorette found herself strangely unintimidated.

Forcing some of the iron she had found in her voice moments before upwards she looked upon him then with a cold gaze and was pleased to find him falter a little. "If you would let me finish speaking Cardinal?"

With a look back towards the king, Cardinal Mazarin was sent shuffling back to his place beside the dais with a wave from the King. Another wave of his hand bid her to continue. "The long and short of it is that the Lenoir's refused to sell the information in return for their children's safety. They have not seen them in over a year. The truth is that they are two parents who have done right by their country and now they do not know how to get their children back."

The King threw her an expectant glance. "What is it exactly that you are asking me to do Cometess?"

"Write to Marcos Rodriquez and offer the Spanish something in return for the children. I know that word will get to their captors from him." Amorette felt a hush descend the hall after she spoke. She fully expected that reaction to the name she had spoken. Marcos Rodriquez was an infamous Spanish mercenary who let all of his dealings be publically known.

"Cometess are you aware of what you are asking me to do?" The king raised his eyebrows as he spoke, his expression grave.

"I am well aware," Amorette announced. "This is not a war for our children to fight your majesty. Write to him and bring those children home to their parents."

"To ask Rodriquez such a thing is an admittance of defeat. France does not bow to Spanish terrorists! The lives of those children are regrettably forfeit for the sake of the greater good!" The Duke of Lorraine cried disgustedly.

"Do you mean to say Duc," Amorette admonished rather harshly, "That every man in this room is here for the greater good? Sorry Mon Seigneur, forgive my foolishness but I thought that every man in this room…" Amorette faltered a little as she looked about the room and caught sight of Athos standing guard at a doorway to her side. "…Almost every man in this room was here for the lining of his pockets and the preservation of his good name! What do you know of the greater good when you openly condemn two innocent children?" There were more intakes of breath as Amorette returned her attention to the King. She was slightly unnerved to find him staring at her bemusedly. He was almost like a child watching his favourite contender in a tennis match. "The Lenoir's have not abandoned their France and France should not abandon them! Do you think that the people of France care how the safety of those children is secured? Do you think it will matter, when they are rode triumphantly through the city as a symbol of the power and influence that the King of France wields? The greater good has no place in the lives of ordinary people. Do you think France will care when the Lenoir's get to hold their children in their arms again? People want a king who rules for them, not in contempt of them. Be the king that the French people want and believe in. Be the king that I believe in. Write to Marcos Rodriquez."

Amorette let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding and waited. Around the room she saw many facial expressions. Some men wore a look of distain, whilst others looked upon her as if she were a piece of meat they wanted to devour. It was the looks of the women around the room though that had her almost shedding a tear. They were all looking at her with pride and longing. Suddenly Amorette felt an overwhelming sense of her own pride in what she had just done. The Queen simply smiled knowingly at her, whilst the King looked at her as if he barely believed she existed.

"Cometess whilst you give your opinion decidedly for one so young, I can see past the rashness to the passionate feelings. Why, if you were a man I may be inclined to admit you as one of my Privy Council members." The king chucked dryly and was sent a disappointed grimace from Cardinal Mazarin. "I believe I will write your letter, and I will ensure that you are the first to hear of its success!"

Amorette was sure that her sigh of relief was heard all around the hall. The King dismissed her with a simple courteous nod and a rather impromptu glance towards the plunging neckline of her dress before he retreated into his private presence chamber. The Queen on the other hand, tarried a little. With the crook of one finger she motioned for Amorette to come closer to her. Taking a few small steps, Amorette met the Queen at the bottom of the steps to the dais. "You spoke well Cometess. We are glad you are returned to Paris court." With a rustle of fabric the Queen followed in the King's wake and Amorette was left feeling rather pleased for herself and out of sorts at the same time. She knew the Queen had wanted to say more by the look in her eyes.

Turning back to the room, Amorette felt many eyes on her. She supposed no one would have forgiven her in that moment from running the length of the room just to be free of it quicker, but she didn't. Such a show of nerves would have them all laughing at her. Instead she took long, slow strides and held her head up high. Whispers and cries of both reprimand and praise followed her, but it was only the Cobalt Blue eyes of the musketeer that alarmed her a little. As she passed him Athos simply quirked an eyebrow and Amorette couldn't tell whether it was disappointment or pride that she saw in his face. The touch of a hand against hers brought her back to her senses as she turned to find Buckingham striding proudly at her side, grinning from ear to ear. He took her hand in his and squeezed and Amorette found that it was not in reassurance, but in congratulations. "You really are something else!" Buckingham whispered in her ear.

When they reached the gardens, Amorette finally felt she could breathe freely again, but only for a few seconds. Buckingham turned sharply at her side and winked at her before retreating back into the palace, his lone pearl dangling earing almost glowing in the winter sunlight. The source of his wink approached. Jerome Weston smiled at Amorette as he reached her side. "Cometess that was remarkable!"

"Please," she simpered. "Call me Amorette."

"Well, Mademoiselle Amorette you really did play that well." Amorette stopped walking and turned to face the man who was at least fifteen years her senior, but in his face she found a strange youthfulness. His greying hair and beard were in fact not a hindrance to the pleasing aspect that was his face. He was handsome in a rugged way, and with his deep crisp voice Amorette felt that she now began to understand why some young women felt the lure of older gentlemen. She recalled again Buckingham's words from a few days ago, and decided that the best way to encourage someone to bring her into their confidence was to first invite them into hers.

"I simply did what I had to in support of my friends Ambassador! I only found out this morning what had befallen their children, but I had to act on it. I'm not sure how the Lenoir's will feel about what I have just done. They asked me not to speak of what had happened to their children, and in truth I think they were ashamed that they could not take care of their family, but it is done now." She looked down towards her feet for dramatic effect and felt Weston's hand take her arm and entwine if with his as they began to walk again.

"Mademoiselle, your friends will thank you when they have their children returned to them. I must confess, for a moment there, back in the hall I thought you would crumble under the scrutiny of the nobility. You held your own though. I have five children, and if I had a friend like you who was willing to put her neck on the line like that I'd be very happy. As a family man, I can tell you that I whole heartedly believe that you did the right thing." Amorette meekly nodded her thanks to Weston as he spoke. "And I believe I owe you an apology. Whilst I like Buckingham I am also aware of his reputation. You have been judged by that reputation by marking Buckingham as your equal and friend. I believe I was rather wary of you, but today you've warranted that trepidation unnecessary. I'm sorry to have judged you so harshly! You've proven yourself to be a rather formidable young woman!"

Amorette turned to gaze into the eyes that were almost black in colour. She may not have known if she could trust the man, but in that moment she certainly believed in what he said to her in those moments. Jerome Weston and Amorette strolled arm in arm towards the palace gates and on until they parted on the Rue St. Honoré. When Amorette finally returned to Buckingham's apartments she was glad to finally be out of sight. The afternoon had started to turn cold and she deposited her hat and cloak in a chair and made for the fireside. When she arrived there, she found Buckingham waiting with two large glasses of Brandy and an anticipating stare. "Well?" he asked.

"I'm sorry George," muttered Amorette as she took the offered glass of brandy and lightly took a sip. "I cannot do what you ask of me. I'm afraid I think I'm the wrong person for the job. You see, I think that Weston is clean. I know my judgement may be completely off, and I could be wrong but in my opinion he's not guilty of what you think. In fact I rather like him, so I'm not going to be able to extract information from him or tail him; it wouldn't be right."

To her surprise Buckingham beamed at her as he swirled the brandy in his glass. "You've nothing to be sorry for Amorette. I appreciate your honesty to me. It took courage, which you have exerted a lot of today. I'm also proud of you for standing up for yourself. I'm glad you are finally doing it. The young Amorette that I knew all those years ago thought she had to do everything that was asked of her, and I'm glad to see she has realised that she is her own woman."

 _ **So what do we think of Jerome Weston? Good, bad, evil? Or just irrelevant?**_


	13. Chapter 13

_**In which Amorette's helpfulness comes back to bite her.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Amorette had never been more humiliated in her life than when she felt the first slap of some form of rotten food hit her back. She had expected it, but it was still an unpleasant experience. For the past week or two she had tried to keep a low profile, but everywhere she went, the whispers and stares followed. Earlier that morning she had come to the conclusion that what had occurred was not her fault. Amorette had pleaded with the King to make some form of offering to the Spanish to persuade them to release the two youngest Lenoir children, but she hadn't bargained for the backlash to be directed at her. She also hadn't anticipated that the King would decide to release significant Spanish prisoners in return for the two children.

The prisoners had been held just inside the border and were released back into Spanish hands as the Lenoir children were delivered onto French soil. Only the King's closest advisors had been privy to the knowledge of the exchange, but that hadn't stopped people creating a scapegoat of Amorette. Secretly Amorette supposed that the Queen must not have known what the King had decided to do either, but it didn't stop people blaming her for it. A decision she had no part in whatsoever was currently the reason she was being ostracized. With Buckingham out of town on business she was left with only Claude and Constance for company.

Amorette had braved the streets on the crisp, fresh Sunday afternoon partly because she couldn't face another day locked away and also because it was more than likely that the streets would be quieter. The market in Les Halles was closed as were many others and the walk to her destination across the river was relatively undisturbed. There were a few whispers and stares, but as she had suspected, there were not many people on the streets. The walk back though, was another story altogether. After a quick visit to Buckingham's old lodgings she made her way along the Boulevard Saint-Germain towards a little bookshop that she had been meaning to visit since she had returned to the city. The streets seemed a little more crowded as she made her way there but Amorette forced herself to carry on and decided to take a chance in the shop being open. Almost every moment the thought of forgetting the bookshop and scuttling back across the bridge crossed her mind but she resolved not to let anything sway her.

The solace of the bookshop had Amorette wishing that she could stay there all afternoon. She trawled the cavernous shelves looking for nothing in particular for over an hour before selecting a book. When she ventured back out onto the street again, it was to find that it was far busier than she expected. Almost immediately the stares were present, and the whispers and even a few catcalls from braver souls. When the rotten fruit was thrown, Amorette's resolve wavered and she hurried her pace a little. She pulled the brim of her hat a little lower as she caught sight of the Pont Neuf in the distance and briskly walked in its direction. Her focus only on the bridge ahead of her, she didn't see the four musketeers that stood talking on a street corner, and she also missed the stone that was hurled her way. Amorette was only made aware of it when it glanced off the hardback of the book she clutched to her chest. She looked up just in time to jerk her head to the right as a far larger stone just missed her face and slammed into the wall behind her.

"Someone's going to get hurt here," growled Porthos as he took a few steps forward. The four musketeers watched as a large man deliberately barrelled into Amorette. On impact she dropped her book but was apprehensive to bend to pick it up. She didn't know how she had managed to stay standing and was sure if she gave the book on the ground her attention, she would be knocked over again. Instead she took a few steps back from the book and the man that had tried to knock her off her feet. Just as she turned to walk in the opposite direction though, D'artagnan stepped in-between them with a growl. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" He snarled at the man and he was forced to move on. From the ground D'artagnan picked up Amorette's book and handed it to her, but before he could offer any more help, Jerome Weston appeared out of nowhere.

"Cometess allow me to walk you home, you shouldn't be wandering alone," he rasped. Amorette was left with little choice when he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and directed her towards the bridge again.

D'artagnan returned to his friends on the street corner with a hand still upheld in irritation. "If that stone had hit her she could have been seriously hurt!"

Aramis nodded his agreement whilst Athos stroked his bearded chin, his thoughts flowing in a rather different direction. "The real question is," he pondered, "What business did she have being on this side of the river?"

Aramis shook his head this time. "She was carrying a book. There are quite a few booksellers in the Latin Quarter that still open on a Sunday."

"So the Cometess left her lodgings alone just to fetch a book on the other side of the Seine? When half of Paris regards her with disgrace? I think there's a little more to it than that."

Still trapped by Jerome Weston's arm, Amorette's apprehension was still present as they arrived on the Rue de Minimes. Shrugging Weston's arm from her shoulders Amorette thanked him for his assistance as she turned towards the doorway of Buckingham's rooms but she stopped short when she caught sight of what had been plastered all over the door; poster upon poster bearing her name and a horribly crude sketch of her and what she guessed were the Spanish prisoners that the King had released. The amateur sketch artist who called himself Petit Da Vinci had struck again and this time she was the victim of his incriminating impressions. Reaching out to rip one from the door, Amorette caught sight of even more paper on the ground. Littering the doorstep were pamphlets with another sketch of her, and this one depicted her with the English flag in one hand and the Spanish in the other. Her anger bubbling over, Amorette grabbed one of the pamphlets and crushed it in her hand. Decision made, she turned on her heel and walked back in the direction that they had come.

"Cometess where are you going? Madam?" Weston continued to call after her was she marched away from him but she was too quick and soon Amorette had lost him in the throngs of people. If people stared and whispered this time, she didn't notice it. All that she could hear was the pounding of her furious heart in her ears and she looked straight ahead as her feet carried her back across the river and onto the Rue Du Bac. Arriving at the musketeer garrison Amorette showed not a single hesitation and stormed through the gateway to find the man that she was looking for sitting alone at a table in the yard.

Athos wasn't aware of Amorette's presence until she slammed the crumpled pamphlet down on the table in front of him. "Are you happy now?" Amorette cried. When Athos continued to look at her blankly she shoved the pamphlet right under his nose. "Isn't this what you want; for me to be vindicated as some sort of traitor?"

"What is this Madam?" Athos fingered the pamphlet gently, his eyes roving over the ludicrous sketch of Amorette before returning his gaze to her face.

"Oh I know very well that you didn't draw this but it's come about partly because of your accusations. I don't doubt that you've been telling anyone who will listen that you suspect me of being a spy! All of this business with the release of those Spanish prisoners probably gives you something to gloat about I suppose! Is a part of you not pleased that everyone in Paris hates me as much as you do now?"

Athos shook his head as he again trained his eyes on the pamphlet which was now in his hand. "Do you realise Madam, just who those Spanish prisoners are? They are dangerous and cunning killers who are now freely walking the streets and now pose a potential threat to France!"

Amorette almost chocked as she tried to force her words out. "I…Those…You know as well as I do that I had nothing to do with the decision to release those men. I spoke up for my friends who could not see a way to help their children. I did not tell the King to release Spanish prisoners! I told him to offer something in return; like money or land or a treaty of some sort! This decision was the King's alone! I never implied anything of the sort!"

"He knows you didn't!" Aramis called from where he now stood at the other end of the table. "Cometess we all know that. The situation is very dire though, you must understand. There are people in Paris whose lives were directly impacted by the actions of those Spanish prisoners and they have every right to be angry."

"I never wanted it. I didn't ask for it," muttered Amorette as the fight left her. She looked at Athos then who still held the pamphlet in his hand. "But there were posters and pamphlets covering the doorway to my lodgings. I don't doubt that they are all over Paris now! That is slander, what's written there, and the sketches… All of Paris is looking at those crude sketches and laughing at me when I've done nothing wrong."

Athos let his gaze meet hers then. "And I never wanted this Mademoiselle." He crushed the pamphlet in his hand and in his eyes Amorette saw that he too wasn't happy about the pamphlet. Blue orbs watched her with such intensity that Amorette almost considered forgiving him everything. She could clearly see that he didn't condone what was being written or said about her in public and her heart warmed towards him for just a second before she forced herself to remember that whilst Athos may not have agreed with her being publicly humiliated he still believed her guilty of some sort of treason.

On impulse Amorette snatched the crumpled pamphlet back. When she spoke there was no anger or ire in her words, only disappointment and confusion. "I know that you have suspicions about me that you have voiced, but I don't know what I can do to prove to you that I've done nothing wrong. We were so close once, and all of that is gone now because you cannot let go of that foolish hunch. I can't be friends with you if you continue to believe that I am working against France. All I can hope for is that all this irrelevant propaganda and rumour fades away as quickly as possible."

There was no emotion in Athos face as they stood in silence for a moment. Without a goodbye Amorette took a few steps away, but she turned to face him again as she remembered the new book still clutched in her hand. Athos still sat in the same spot at the table and she presented the book to him. With a curious glance towards Amorette he took the copy of Thomas Moore's Utopia into his hand and stared down at it. Slightly perplexed, he looked back up to find Amorette smiling in a rather sad way.

"I bought myself a new copy this morning, but I think you need it more than I do. Perhaps it will jar your memory of the friend you once knew." With that Amorette turned and began to walk away. Forcing herself not to look back as she did so, she called "I want you to stay away from me!"

Amorette hid herself from view for the next few weeks. She travelled to and from the palace in dark clothing and the only company she received in her own lodgings was Claude. Constance stayed away from Buckingham's rooms; probably due to D'artagnan's influence, but Amorette still saw her at court. Strangely, she had heard very little from Buckingham since he had left Paris. He had promised to write, and she'd had only one letter from him. Amorette knew that it was foolish to worry about a man like Buckingham who was more than capable of taking care of himself but something didn't sit quite right with his almost complete silence.

It was a rather dull and overcast day when Buckingham finally returned to Paris, and he wasn't alone. Amorette was walking through the market in Les Halles when she saw him, a man she hadn't seen in five years. Franc La Belisle cut a very fine figure in his suit of black and red brocade. He was oblivious to her eyes on him, and yet something about his demeanour made Amorette think that he wanted to be noticed. She watched from afar as he and Buckingham perused two young Mademoiselles who carried large hat boxes. Rolling her eyes, Amorette almost turned to walk away but something about the scene kept her watching. When the Mademoiselles stopped to look into the window of a dress-makers her two old friends too their chance and pounced. Amorette moved along the street a little so that she was close enough to hear snippets of conversation, but she really needn't have bothered. They were flirting outrageously and Amorette snorted in an unladylike manner. It was nothing out of the ordinary for Buckingham, who was a flamboyant character in every sense of the word. He was always ready for an opportunity to show off, but Franc wasn't the type. He had always been rather shy and discreet in his affections. Amorette remembered with more than a little embarrassment how much courage Franc had had to conjure up to propose to her when they had last met five years ago.

Amorette had felt terrible for refusing him, but there really had been no question of her marrying Franc. Politically, their families were opposed in every way. Amorette had also known just how badly Franc wanted the perfect family unit and that wasn't something Amorette wanted at twenty five, let alone five years ago. She struggled to think of herself as a mother. As a child she had promised herself that she would never bring a child into the world to put it through what she had suffered at the hands of her father and that decision hadn't wavered much. Amorette had always been aware of how unhappy her parents' marriage was, and it had ruined her childhood in many ways. Franc had taken her refusal rather badly. After sulking for days he had renewed his proposal until he was blue in the face and Amorette had been even more put off by his persistence.

Franc had stumbled over the words which should have been spoken with authority and affection repeatedly; and yet here he was on a Paris street apparently locked in a flirting battle with the Duke of Buckingham. Something had changed. Before she could ponder the matter any longer though, Franc and Buckingham followed in the wake of the young Mademoiselles and Amorette was forced to move along so that they wouldn't discover her watching them.

The next day dawned brightly and Amorette wasn't surprised to find that Buckingham hadn't returned to their rooms the night before. Amorette knew that Buckingham and Franc were still probably drinking and playing cards somewhere; unaware that it was now early morning. Amorette had used the opportunity to her advantage though and had thoroughly searched the rooms that she shared with her old friend. Even Buckingham's own bedchamber was devoid of anything incriminating. Amorette pulled at the rather extravagant hairstyle she had created rather dejectedly and considered taking the pins out and starting again. The hairstyle was a rather intricate affair of plaits that were rolled together and pinned to the top of her head. It wasn't something that Amorette would normally have bothered with but as it was her birthday, she had decided to gift herself with a new hairstyle. Giving up on trying to fix the plaits, Amorette pulled a few gentle curls free to frame her face and pinned her hat to her head.

She plucked an Apple from the fruit arrangement on the dining table as she made her way to the door, quite looking forward to the brisk morning walk now that she knew it was a clear day. It was likely to be the highlight of the day for Amorette, who hadn't informed anyone that it was her birthday. Buckingham had never remembered her birthday in all the years that they had known each other unless she hosted a grand party for him to attend. Perhaps Athos would be more inclined to remember, but Amorette was sure he would heed her wishes to stay well away from her.

Amorette's morning at the palace passed rather uneventfully. Claude's children were ill and she had decided to stay with them rather than leave them in the care of the governess, which Amorette was secretly quite pleased about. Constance too was busy waiting on the Queen, but Amorette was permitted to sit with them for a while. With the afternoon Amorette became restless for a walk, and offered to take Constance's place and fetch some things for the Queen. Amorette's destination was a dressmaker's shop on the riverbank. It was not a long walk and not one out of the ordinary for a Mademoiselle her age but Amorette still kept to the quiet streets and walked a little further out before turning back on herself to ensure that she was not followed. She collected the items that the Queen had requested and also an order of her own that she had placed a week or two ago as a treat for her birthday and left the shop. It was even more necessary that Amorette was not spotted making her way back to the palace and so she pulled her cloak hood up to cover her hat and walked towards the Marais before circling around towards the palace again. Coming to the end of a street, Amorette looked around furtively. Once or twice she had felt the sensation of hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as if to warn her that she was being followed, but each time she turned around she saw no one.

Clutching her basket of purchases closer, Amorette lifted a foot to begin crossing the street as a carriage passed her by. She didn't get to place her foot a step ahead though. A firm hand clamped down on her shoulder and she was dragged backwards. Turning to shout a protest, Amorette was brought up short when she saw that the hand belonged to Athos. "What on earth do you think you're doing? Let go of me!"

But Athos didn't let go. Instead his grip tightened so that it was almost painful. "You will come with us Mademoiselle," he said as she was turned around and marched her into a secluded alleyway. Immediately Amorette's thoughts turned back to the street they had just left. From where she stood with her back against the wall she watched the tiny square of street that she could still see in the hopes that Buckingham or Jerome Weston would appear to aid her, but no one came. Instead she turned her attention back to the four men. Whilst Athos looked determined, Porthos and D'artagnan looked slightly uncomfortable and Aramis looked downright outraged.

"I want it noted that I don't agree with this!" Aramis stated. Amorette also noted that he had made no move to stop whatever it was his friend intended to do.

"What is this about?" Amorette demanded. "If you know what's good for you and your friends Athos you will let me leave now!"

For a few seconds Athos simply watched her before saying, "Madam you will permit us to search your belongings." He nodded towards the basket that Amorette still clutched to her side.

"As we are clearly no longer friends," Amorette all but growled, "It's Cometess de la Feuillette to you and you will not address me so informally ever again!"

Athos snorted. "Pulling rank now? You're never one to lord it over anyone else so perhaps you feel the need to hide behind it. Hand it over!" He made to snatch the basket from her but she pulled it back just in time."

"Athos!" Aramis hissed in warning.

"Now that we have established my position in society above yours, pray do tell me why you believe you have any right to search my things? Please don't tell me it's only because of your suspicions that I am a spy?" Athos didn't answer her. Instead they gazed at each other for a moment until Amorette sighed. "Very well, I've nothing to hide." The basket handle was resting in the crook of her arm and Amorette deliberately jerked her elbow in a way that dislodged the white linen that covered the top of the basket. As she had intended, Aramis was the only one to realise just what the basket contained, but his second hissed warning to Athos came too late.

Amorette waited with bated breath as Athos took the basket from her but he wasn't paying attention to it. He was watching her own reaction and continued to do so as he delved into the basket. Amorette gave a smirk as realisation crossed his features. "What is all of this?" Athos asked as Amorette brought her hand up to her mouth to hide her laughter.

"New undergarments," Amorette confirmed as she gave up and laughed openly. "For me…" Amorette hesitated as she relished in the anticipation of the next reaction. "…And for the Queen."

Athos' hand recoiled from the basket as if he had been bitten and Amorette knew that this time, she had won. She continued to chuckle as she leaned forward and roughly snatched the basket out of his hands and covered it with the linen again but she could feel the anger creeping in. "Now that you have seen the purpose of my errand this afternoon I hope you are assured of my innocence! I mean, what did you expect to find; a brace of pistols hidden between my new corsets? How dare you accost me on the street like that! Even before you had given up your title you had no right to treat me in such a way! Searching my things like I am some common criminal because I walked a different way or turned my head suspiciously! This really is beyond a joke now Athos! I told you to leave me alone!"

Amorette stopped to catch a breath and was pleased to see that at least Porthos and D'artagnan looked as if they would rather be anywhere else in that moment. Aramis simply stared at his boots as if he was ashamed of his friend's actions. Amorette turned on her heel to leave the alleyway, but she swung back as another thought crossed her mind. She came so close to Athos that as he looked down at her their noses almost touched. "You know, I have a good mind to report you for this!"

Free hand balling into a fist, Amorette forced herself to walk away from them all then, back out into the street. "That went well," muttered Porthos.

D'artagnan looked a little worried though. "Do you really think she would report it?"

"No," sighed Athos. "It would only draw more attention to whatever it is that she's involved in. I don't think it's something that we need to worry about."

Aramis was still staring at the spot where Amorette had vanished back out onto the street. "But if she did," he said, "She'd have every right."

Dispelling her anger wasn't something that Amorette found easy to do, but she tried her best. As she walked she stuffed her hand into the basket and felt around for what she knew was hidden there. That had been an extremely close call. When her fingers closed around the cool diamond of the fake necklace she gave a little sigh of relief and resigned herself to the fact that she would just have to take comfort from the fact that it was safe and on its way to its new owner.

When Amorette finally returned to the Rue de Minimes later that day it was to find that the street packed with carriages. She was well aware of the presence of the lone musketeer that had followed her for most of the afternoon and was suddenly glad that he was witness to what she was sure was about to happen. For outside the just arrived carriages there stood a group of people so well known to Amorette that once she had thought of them all as a little family. Franc and Buckingham stood in the centre of the throng, with the two Bertram sisters to their left and Pierre Dubois on the right. Further behind them stood the Pelletier brothers amongst many others that she knew. The old crowd was back together. Amorette simply basked in the memories that washed over her in waves for a while as she watched the large group happily chatting animatedly together.

When Buckingham finally spotted her, he broke off from the group and approached her with his arms opened wide, a huge grin on his face. "Happy birthday Cometess!" Amorette threw etiquette out of the window and threw her arms around Buckingham's shoulders and kissed his cheek! "You thought I'd forgotten as I usually do?" Buckingham chuckled lightly.

"Thank you," whispered Amorette into his ear.

"I thought you could do with cheering up a little. By the way, you do know you've got a tail don't you?" Buckingham nodded in Athos' direction. "Do you need me to intervene and send him on his way?"

Amorette turned to look at the musketeer, some of her earlier anger brewing in her stomach again. She hated how easily Athos could still rile her. "No. He'll learn soon enough that he's wasting his time."

Buckingham grinned mischievously at her then. "Good. Let's go and get drunk then!" He took her arm and led her towards her old friends, who seemed just as ready for a party as Buckingham.

Amorette hadn't a second to simply sit and think in the month that followed. The presence of old friends in Paris had kept her busy, and for the first time since coming back she didn't feel lonely. Whilst she may have had friends in Claude and Constance and perhaps now even the Queen, many people still gave her a wide birth. After the pamphlets and been released, the Queen had promised Amorette that the King would make a public announcement stating that the Spanish prisoner release was his idea alone and he did just that, but by that point everyone in Paris had seen the pamphlets. Some people were still suspicious of her and Amorette had found it rather hard to integrate. Her old friends put an end to all of that though. They all had their own acquaintances in Paris and took troubles to introduce Amorette wherever possible. Finally, people were beginning to warm to her.

The long lawn of the Jardin De Tuileries was often home to shooting parties that the King hosted, but on a calm Wednesday morning it was only home to the Queen and her ladies. The king had gone on a hunt the day before, and wasn't due back until later that evening. The Queen was walking in the shaded tree lined area of the gardens as her ladies followed. As Amorette was not a Queen's lady but more of a friend she was not required to follow. Instead she sat upon an embroidered blanket in the middle of the lawn, leaning back on her arms with her face lifted skyward. With her eyes closed she didn't see anyone move towards her, but she heard a man's footfalls in the grass. When she opened her eyes, it was to find Aramis standing over her, but he wasn't looking at her. Instead Amorette watched as his eyes were trained on the glimpses of coloured fabric of dresses between the trees and shrubbery. Either Aramis was watching one of the Queen's ladies, or he was watching the Queen herself.

After a few moments Amorette cleared her throat quietly. Aramis jerked and turned to her with a small smile. If he knew what Amorette had caught him doing, he didn't show it. "Hello and why would you becoming to see me?" Amorette asked.

"Actually," said Aramis as he knelt at the side of the blanket, "I wanted to apologise for the last time we met. Athos was out of line to accost you in the street like that. If you did decide to report him you would have every right and I wouldn't blame you for it."

Amorette gently shook her head. "No Aramis it was not your fault, although you didn't try very hard to stop him."

"Athos always was his own man. Actually I thought it better that he searched you and found nothing. It only stands to help you Cometess."

Amorette watched the musketeer as he gazed off into the distance for a few seconds before turning back to her. She patted the space beside her on the blanket as an invitation for him to sit even as he shook his head at her. "Cometess I am still on duty."

Amorette grinned at him. "Come now Aramis, you didn't just come here to apologise did you? Besides, if this damsel in distress is desperate for company upon her lonely blanket, shouldn't you oblige? And how many times do I have to tell you, please call me Amorette."

Aramis grinned back at her and sat down beside her on the blanket. "There is another matter that I wanted to speak to you about. Those friends of yours that arrived a while ago, there is one whose name I am familiar with. Do you recall a conversation we had a little over a year ago now Mademoiselle? When I spoke of two women in my life who meant a great deal to me? Well I believe that this Madam and your friend are connected in some way."

Her curiosity now piqued, Amorette asked, "Which friend?"

"The Pelletier brothers. I believe she and one of the brothers were friends at one point. Her name is Iseult. I told you a year ago that we were close, but that we couldn't marry. She was the daughter of a wealthy man and we could never have made a life for ourselves. She wasn't strong enough to leave her family and make a life with me, so I left to spare her the pain of having to choose. Your friends return has me recalling memories of her though. Perhaps you might mention her name if it's not too much trouble and ask if she's well. I hate to ask, but it's been plaguing my thoughts since I saw your friend."

"Of course I'll ask," Amorette said, "But tell me, is she from the same town as him?" When Aramis nodded Amorette smiled keenly. "My cousin is a prominent figure there; I'll write to him and ask him for news of her, discretely of course. Perhaps he may even have an address and you could write to her."

"Mademoiselle I couldn't ask you to do that for me? To ask you to speak with Pelletier is more than enough, but thank you all the same," Aramis moved as if he were about to stand and Amorette grabbed his wrist.

"Nonsense, I'll ask the Pelletier's and if they know nothing I'll write to my cousin. That's what friends are for. It's no trouble. I've a letter half written to him in my room as it is and there will be no trouble in adding a few extra words to it."

Amorette had a few friends in Paris, but she was always glad of more and Aramis was someone that she had always been fond of. He smiled his thanks at her. "I appreciate this Mademoiselle."

 _ **I'm slowly realising how long it's taking Amorette and Athos to sort themselves out, and there's still a way to go yet. There's a few more occasions to be annoyed with Athos before we reach that point. I do love Amorette and Aramis' friendship though.**_

Her


	14. Chapter 14

_**In which Amorette's daddy issues begin to take centre stage.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

The Pelletier brothers denied all knowledge of Aramis' lady friend Iseult. Amorette knew they were either telling the truth, or they were very good liars. That was the thing about young bachelors like the Pelletier's though, they were all good liars. Both young men were still unmarried and prowling Paris for rich pickings. Amorette was safe due to her close friendship with the boys but not many other women were. Claude had caught the attention of both brothers but what was more shocking was that Claude encouraged the outrageous flirting. As soon as Amorette caught sight of Claude draping herself around the neck of one brother she pulled her swiftly away, grumbling reminder's about Claude's husband.

Claude had been drunk and Amorette understood that it may have been harmless flirting, but it was dangerous for a married woman to play such games. Claude said that her husband wouldn't mind but Amorette was more concerned about what the rest of the court would think and say. She had begun to realise just how dire the situation was between Claude and her husband. They had both clearly fallen out of love with each other a long time ago and were now barely on speaking terms. In the beginning Amorette thought that perhaps they had always only had a friendship and had never actually deeply loved each other but talking to Claude had left her in no doubt that they had once loved each other very much. That was the worst thing about it, Amorette thought. To once have loved someone so much, and to have them love you back but only for a little while. It was the children who she really felt for though. They were constantly stuck in between the arguments and Amorette knew only too well how that felt.

It grew harder and harder for Amorette to feel sorry for Claude when she threw herself at every available man though. It happened even when she was without the influence of wine or brandy so frequently that Amorette and Constance had taken to following Claude everywhere she went if they felt she was so inclined to flirt that day. Claude didn't seem to mind. In fact Amorette was sure she found it very funny indeed. Amorette was so wrapped up in trying to convince Claude to stay faithful to her husband that for a few days it slipped her mind that she had promised Aramis that she would ask about Iseult. Her only reminder came with the Pelletier's early departure from Paris. She didn't have a chance to ask them again as she waved them off and a rather forlorn mood enveloped her. She still had her cousin's reply to wait for, but she supposed that it would have meant more to Aramis to have heard the news from someone who was real and present.

Amorette hadn't had the chance to speak to Aramis and she supposed it could well be after her cousin's reply had arrived that they did meet, but it didn't ease her mood any. She had promised Aramis she would find Iseult for him because she understood what he was going through. Franc was the first to sense her mood. "So are we going to discuss what's got you so melancholy these last few weeks?" Franc questioned one day as they crossed the Pont Neuf together. "Years ago I'd have said that Athos had something to do with it but I thought you'd given all that up!"

"It's not Athos," she said with a shake of the head. "I shouldn't talk about it in great detail but a friend asked something of me and so far I've failed rather miserably. In truth, I was to speak to a friend and discover some information for them but they denied all knowledge of it and I've now no opportunity to ask again. My cousin may also be able to help though; I'm just waiting for a reply from him."

"By that do you mean the Pelletier's? I did spend some time with them over the last few months. Perhaps I could help?"

Amorette told Franc about her quest to find out just what fate had befallen Iseult at a friend's request but kept Aramis' identity hidden. Franc listened with polite indifference while Amorette spoke of how she suspected that the Pelletier's knew more than they had admitted. Unknowingly they had walked in the direction of the Jardin De Luxembourg and found themselves completely alone when they passed through the gates and walked in no particular direction. Franc had been oddly silent up until then and Amorette thought it was very strange, but when they had ventured a good distance into the gardens he suddenly turned sharply to face her.

"Madam I do not know why you ask about this young madam Iseult or who has asked you to do so, but I must question you about your intentions once you have gathered any significant information that may tell of her whereabouts?" Franc seemed nervous, almost as if he anticipated that Amorette would run from him at any moment. To combat these feelings he let his hands rest on her shoulders as he waited for her hesitant answer. "I must have your assurance that whoever it is who asked you to find her has no ill intentions towards her?"

Amorette nodded swiftly and squeezed Franc's wrist in reassurance. "Franc I wouldn't be looking into it if I didn't believe that my friend had only the best of intentions towards the man. He is honourable. I do not believe he means to whisk her away and marry her or anything like that. Iseult and the gentleman were close once, and I believe that he simply wishes to know that life has not been too unkind to her. I didn't expect to find that you knew anything about the woman but I do hope you will tell me what you know!"

Franc smiled at her, but he still looked a little uneasy. "I trust your judgement Mademoiselle so I will tell you what I know and I will leave it to you to judge for yourself whether this friend of yours should be privy to this information or not. I do not wish to cause Iseult any distress or harm which is why I am cautious. She arrived in Chartres only a few months ago where she has been hiding out ever since. I believe there is someone that she fears greatly, but she will speak of it to no one. My understanding is that one of your many cousins resides in Chartres?" Amorette nodded. "Then speak nothing of this to your friend just yet. Have your cousin investigate the matter for you. I'm sure he will be aware of her presence there by now so let him approach her about the matter. If she wishes to have any communication with this friend of yours then let it be her choice and hers alone. It is only fair that it be the Madam's choice after all."

Amorette was puzzled about Franc's blatant evasiveness and protectful nature of this woman. Why on earth was he so keen that Iseult be the one to begin communications? Wasn't Aramis just as worthy of that right? Amorette knew she would have to heed Franc's words though. She too had been evasive in leaving Aramis' name out of the loop, but when her cousin's reply finally came she had a feeling that she would have to reveal his identity to her cousin at least. She made a solemn promise to Franc that she would heed his words but Amorette silently promised herself that she would do what she thought was right when the time finally came.

Her walk with Franc was quite a lengthy one and Amorette had forgotten about his ability to talk until he was blue in the face. In her mind Amorette had always thought that Franc would have made a good clergyman because he had the ability to prattle on like the best of them. Perhaps his topic of conversation might have held some resonance and meaning in the beginning, but Franc added such inane worthless conversation to his speech that it was rendered pointless. As they turned back and made their way towards the Palace Amorette had the fleeting thought that Franc only talked so much because he wanted to keep her in his presence for longer. _Not this again._ This time though, he had made no proposal or showed his hand so Amorette simply hurried their pace a little with the excuse that she needed to return quickly to attend an important dress fitting.

By the time the two old friends returned to the Palace it was thriving with activity. Amorette had never envisioned the thought crossing her mind, but she did indeed enjoy these moments. Walking back into the grand entrance hall of the palace and looking up, they found that the marble staircase was a throng of people. There was something about the buzz of court life, the intrigues and love affairs that gave off some sort of heady mixture of fear and exuberance that Amorette had never desired to feel. It was not the jingle of a pocket of coins that had Amorette hooked, but rather the strange knowledge that something somewhere within these halls was happening and they were all a part of it by simply standing upon the steps and gossiping about it.

They pushed through the hive of young people and crossed another hallway into a much more civilised atmosphere. Outside the young Mademoiselles fanned and feinted and chattered and clapped as if it were their last day there. In this hall though, a slightly older crowd of people gossiped in a quieter manner. Almost at once though, Amorette knew that something was amiss. Amid the din of chatter she could very clearly discern the dulcet tones of many Englishmen. Whilst some of Buckingham's friends were indeed English, they were all rakish fops who were more likely to be found outside on the staircase plotting to catch a coy Mademoiselle as she pretended to faint. No the men within this room were something else entirely. The noise they made wasn't sitting well with their French peers; that much she could tell as she moved through the room.

She stopped suddenly in the middle of the floor in shock and fear. She expected Franc who had been behind her, to walk right into her. He didn't though, because he had mysteriously disappeared. Amorette held her breath as she turned back towards the sound and now the sight that had made her heart drop into the pit of her stomach. Amongst the rowdy Englishmen who had now come up upon her right side stood her father. For a few seconds Amorette simply stared at the back of his head and hoped against all hope that what she was seeing was just a mirage but when Lord Percy Barclay turned with the grace and pomp of an English gentleman her worst fears were confirmed.

"Come Mademoiselle! Will you not kiss me?" Lord Barclay's booming voice carried the length of the room but Amorette still had trouble hearing him over the sound of her on ferocious heartbeat. She balled her hands into fists at her side and gave him the most scathing look that she could muster. When she spoke, it was almost just a whisper, and yet she knew that most of the room had turned their attention towards her, "No."

"Come now," simpered Lord Barclay, "Is that any way for a daughter to greet her father?"

When he took a determined step towards her, Amorette's mind jarred and only one thought remained. _RUN!_ Run she did. She tore through the room, back the way she had come and out onto the staircase again. Without any thought to her appearance or decorum she clattered down the steps in her heeled slippers, getting caught in couplets and quartets of people as she went. She pushed roughly at anyone who got in her way as she hastily tried to put as much distance between herself and her father. Many called out rebukes and chastisements but when she reached the bend of the staircase and kept moving the shouts of protests changed a little. People called her name, and a hand even reached out to try to snag her arm. Amorette dived out of the unknown hand's reach and kept running. Tearing down another flight she almost missed her footing as tears shrouded her vision. Her stomach lurched as she felt the beginnings of a fall. With a growl of "Cometess, watch yourself," an arm caught her and steadied her. Amorette knew the voice but she didn't try to place it as the arm was removed and she took off running again towards the entrance hall. She flew out into the Tuileries gardens with reckless abandon and felt the gravel of the path kick up behind her as she ran but she didn't stop. The Queen and her ladies walked nearby on the lawn but Amorette ran so fast that they didn't catch sight of her.

She was sobbing as she entered the maze. Entering the cool shade of the tall hedges Amorette finally let herself stop to catch her breath. Tears still poured down her cheeks and she didn't bother to wipe them away. Paris had been slowly beginning to feel like a home to her. Despite the few teething problems that she had experienced at the beginning she had been just finding her feet. She supposed it was heavily ironic that just as she began to feel content, with a small number of good friends around her and somewhat of a purpose in being a companion to the Queen; something had to come along and ruin it for her. She would have no choice now but to pack up and leave Paris; perhaps even France. There was no point in hoping for her father to simply stay for a few days and then leave. No, if he was here then it was to torment her and destroy any life that she had made for herself in the city. Ambling further into the maze on the exact pretext of getting herself lost for a few hours, Amorette sobbed again as anger overtook her. She had made real friends in Paris, and now she would have to leave it all behind. She was strong and knew it, but the real strength was in knowing when to leave. She may not have had the strength years ago to withstand her father's jibes and even now that she did, there was little or no point in putting her friends through it with her. Years ago she would have gone to her father and kissed him when he had asked her to, and would have done his bidding out of fear both of his own reprisal and that of the room full of courtiers. That was her strength now though, she could run from him and not give a damn what anyone else thought of her.

She jumped when she heard his voice again, this time very close to her ear. "You can't expect to hide here forever!"

Amorette whirled around to find her father only inches from her, blocking the pathway back out towards the gardens. "Let me pass," Amorette demanded as she tried to push past him but he simply swerved to the side to block her way even further. For a few seconds there was still silence as they both contemplated what to do next. Amorette sighed in an almost defeated away and her father took a step backwards. He thought that she had given up and was going to listen to what he had to say, but Amorette had no intentions of doing so. As soon as he backed away she made a run for it. She threw herself round the corners of the maze, colliding with the shrubbery and earning herself a few scrapes and cuts here and there as she went. Her father shouted after her as his thundering footsteps followed. Tears still flowed down Amorette's cheeks and a yell of "Leave me alone! Stay away from me!" came out as a tortured wail. The head start that she had on her father appeared to have paid off when the heavy footfalls behind her faded a little as he took a wrong turning. Amorette knew that even in her haste she had come the right way and so she kept running, her chest heaving both with sobs and exertion. Cool shade gave way to sunlight as sharply as someone throwing open a set of curtains when Amorette burst out onto the lawn from the maze. That area of the gardens looked to be deserted now. The Queen and her ladies were nowhere to be seen which made Amorette slightly apprehensive. If they had still been there she could have inconspicuously joined their number and spirited herself away but without them she would be seen very clearly crossing the lawns.

Her hesitation at the mouth of the maze had cost her dearly, she realised when she heard that her father had found the right path and was gaining upon her once again. She had only gone five steps when she heard him directly behind her again. This time she felt a strange curiosity to turn to face him and so she did. "Now let's not play cat and mouse you little chit!" Lord Barclay growled as he advanced towards her. "Did you really think you could parade yourself around Paris and that I wouldn't come to hear of it?"

Lost for words, Amorette simply repeated herself. "Stay away from me!"

"Come now girl. I know that you have questions to ask of me, and I of you so can't we just sit down as adults and discuss it all?" Her father's words may have seemed amiable, but it was his tone of voice that frightened Amorette more than anything.

"I don't want to discuss anything with you. I have nothing to say to you and nothing to offer you! All I ask is that you leave me be and leave Paris. Why are you even here? You hate Paris! Go now, go and I shan't speak of this to anyone. If people knew the truth you would not be accepted at court! If you choose to stay perhaps I will choose to disclose vital information. I could damn you and ruin you all in just a few words!"

Lord Barclay chuckled. "Is that a threat, daughter mine? Bravo, you are learning at last from my influence I see!"

Amorette backed away a few paces but her father simply followed her. "What purpose can you have here other than to try to tarnish my good name?"

"Oh one or two things," he simpered. "You will discover it all in due course. My first agenda is money, as always. I know about the little hideaway of your mother's in Provins by the way. I passed it on my way here to check it out, very quaint. Don't worry, I took nothing. I simply admired it from the outside. I will admire it further though when you hand it over to me!"

"I'll do no such thing!" Amorette blurted out before she really thought about what she was saying. In a quieter tone she added, "That house belonged to my mother and as such it is rightfully mine. You Monsieur have no claim over it. You have no claim over anything of mine."

"Don't you understand child? You are my claim! I always knew the stipulation regarding your mother's assets would cause me endless trouble. I mean, whoever heard of leaving all of your inheritance to a daughter? It's ludicrous! As your mother's husband everything you have at your disposal is rightfully mine."

Amorette felt her blood begin to boil as she glared at the man she had hated all her life. "If you knew about my mother's title and its female inheritance line, perhaps you should have considered your marriage choice a little more carefully!"

Her father took another step towards her as his nostrils flared dangerously. "You are a vile officious brat that your mother spewed up! I should have known you would have been just as stubborn and foolish as she was! You French, with your strange inheritance loopholes! Your mother never could match up to the fine example of the perfect English wife! There was always some pernickety thing that she had to force an argument over! She was a good for nothing trollop when I met her! One child out of wedlock already and happy to bed me before we were even wed! What kind of wife is that! Look at the devastation her other spawn caused! You are tainted just like your mother and sister before you!"

Amorette lost all pretence and charged towards him. "WELL YOU MARRIED THE WOMAN!" she roared at the top of her voice and she felt it crack on the last word. She pummelled her father's chest with her fists, feeling braver than she ever had in her life before. That was the thing about men who abused her mother and sister's name; they only made Amorette see things more clearly. Her mother and sister had both been strong and liberated women despite their flaws and faults. To Amorette; knowing that she was from such stock only instilled a strange sense of belief in her own power within her. Even her sister Ann's legacy as a vicious serial killer was something that gave her if not pride, the courage to strengthen her own resolve. If she didn't want to end up as a washed up punch sack of her father's then she needed to toughen up. "That's the thing," she suddenly snarled. "You trod on my mother and me for so many years and now I'm the one with money and land and titles. I have friends in high places now." Amorette gestured behind her towards the palace, "And now Papa I think you want a slice of my pie. Well let me tell you this, you will have to put up a darn good fight for it! From where I'm sitting you won't get a sou!" One of Amorette's hands was still balled up into a fist and held aloft. Her father took his opportunity and grabbed her wrist firmly. "I'm not that little girl any more you know," whispered Amorette.

"But I could still snap you in two!" her father replied. All at once Amorette was thrown back many years to the sickening crunching sound of the bone in her arm breaking at the hands of her father. It was a sickening, alienating sound that had her stomach roiling horribly. Forcing herself back to the present, Amorette dared to suppose that if she vomited on her father right there and then, it wouldn't have been an altogether bad outcome.

"Is everything alright here?" came the sharp voice of Jerome Weston from a few feet away. Amorette spun around as all at once her father released her wrist and stepped back from her. Weston stood shoulder to shoulder with D'artagnan and five other musketeers that Amorette did not know. Her father vanished without another word and Amorette felt her heart sink as she was left to explain the situation. Weston stepped forward and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and Amorette didn't shrug him off. Instead she shuddered at the thought of her father and moulded herself to Weston's side. "Are you alright Cometess?" Weston queried. Amorette nodded slightly.

"The Queen heard someone in distress, she thought someone was being attacked and fetched me," D'artagnan supplied when Amorette finally turned her gaze upon him. "I had thought to come after you on the stairs when you tumbled. Who was that man Cometess?"

She had known the man on the stairs who had prevented her fall, it had been D'artagnan. It pained Amorette greatly to tell the truth, but she had little choice with D'artagnan scrutinising her face in such a way.

"My father," was her reply and she hoped it would suffice, but D'artagnan simply stared at her as if waiting for more of an explanation. "Please don't mention this to Athos," she pleaded to the young musketeer.

He raised a quizzical eyebrow that swiftly reminded Amorette of Athos. If she had not been so spooked by what had just happened she might have laughed and teased the young Gasçon about his obviously inherited trait. "Why should I not tell Athos?" D'artagnan demanded and Amorette knew that he had been on the cusp of heading straight to Athos to do just that.

Amorette grabbed the sleeve of his doublet as she had done before on occasions with Aramis. She didn't know how or why but it seemed to work when teamed with an imploring look. "Athos and my father hate each other Monsieur! To tell Athos of this occurrence would only cause unnecessary aggravation. Athos wouldn't think twice about confronting my father and that will only bring about trouble for him. Now that Athos has given up his title he is just a foot soldier. To take up a grievance with an English Lord over something domestic would be catastrophic for him. The power my father wields would end his career as a musketeer and his situation in Paris." Amorette saw D'artagnan's eyes glaze over as understanding washed over him and knew that she had all but convinced him. "You must understand that is not what I want, or what you want for Athos. Besides, I have handled the situation. I've made my position clear to my father and he will have no need to challenge me again."

Amorette knew that if she said much more, she might cross the line so she waited patiently as she watched a war go on behind D'artagnan's eyes. He was a musketeer and a good man, and therefore he felt duty-bound to report what he had witnessed in order to ensure her own safety and he also didn't want to keep things from his mentor. On the other hand though, he knew that what Amorette said was right. Athos could get himself into a nasty predicament if he took on a man like Lord Percy Barclay.

Eventually D'artagnan sighed, his decision made. "Alright Cometess, I won't mention this particular event. But if anything else occurs between you and your father or he approaches you in any way I want you to fetch help straight away whether it's a red guard or one of us, keeping it from Athos be damned. This one time, since you are unharmed I will let it pass."

Amorette thanked him warmly before she was whisked away by Jerome Weston. He walked her all the way back to her lodgings in the Marais and followed her into the parlour that she and Buckingham shared. This time, Amorette was glad of his company. There was something about the man old enough to be her father that comforted her in that moment in a way that she felt no one else could. She did not want a gallant young Comte her age coming to her rescue, or the sympathetic brown eyes of Aramis. Not even the cold and stormy cobalt blue eyes of Athos would have soothed her in that moment. It was not the presence of a suitor of sorts that she needed. She did not want a red-blooded lust or love induced defence of her honour. No, what she wanted was something very simple in fact. Whilst she was fully aware that Weston was an attractive man even to her own eyes, Amorette knew that he had three children now grown up and that he would look upon her in that moment as he would his own daughter. She felt his wiser, more stable mood easing her worry and pain a little in a way that her own father should have been able to do.

Jerome Weston waited until Buckingham arrived back before he left their lodgings. Amorette had already retired to her room to change and so she missed the exchange between the two Englishmen completely. As it would turn out, Weston had left it to her to explain what had passed between her father and herself that day, and Amorette knew she wouldn't have the courage to tell Buckingham. That would be almost as painful as having to tell Athos. When she had entered her room she had found a reply on her little table from her cousin. The letter helped to occupy her thoughts more favourably and reminded Amorette that she needed to put of her leaving off Paris until she had at least tried to help Aramis. In truth she did not think the musketeer would mind if he knew the circumstances, but Amorette had made a promise and she felt duty bound to keep it. Her afternoon was occupied with orchestrating another letter to her cousin before she changed for that evening's party.

As she climbed into a carriage she bid an express messenger take the missive to Chartres directly. "…And be sure to tell my cousin I expect a reply imminently, within a day or two. I have to leave Paris soon and this cannot wait." She pressed a heavy purse of coins into the young man's hand.

"For that amount of gold," said the boy with a jovial wink, "I'll stand behind your cousin and berate him until the reply is finished," and with that he was off.

A sober mind had decided to delay telling Aramis of her cousin's further reply until Amorette received another letter, but the events of the day had taken their toll and she had liberally indulged in a copious amount of wine that evening and rendered that point moot. Amorette sashayed towards him in the lonely hallway where he was on duty and thrust out the skirts of her dress rather playfully. The dress was one of her own choosing this time. When the tailor had placed the bronze silk before her Amorette had fallen in love with the colour. Whilst the bodice of the dress was fairly plain in design and embroidery, the skirts were the fullest that Amorette had ever worn. Aramis chuckled dryly when he caught sight of her intoxicated form floating towards him. She told him the news that her cousin had managed to place the Madam Iseult, and that another reply was imminent. Aramis seemed more interested in teasing her for her inability to walk in a straight line though. He walked her back up the hallway towards a flight of steps that would take her back downstairs to the party and saw her off with the parting advice to find him in the morning when she was sober and depart of her news then. She turned back to find him laughing at her and let out a giggle as she waved goodbye at the turn of the staircase.

At the foot of the stairs there was a choice to be made. She could return to the ballroom and continue the party, or she could depart through a hallway to her right and call for her carriage. Amorette knew she shouldn't really return to her lodgings alone so late at night and without saying goodbye to her friends inside but tiredness won out and she took weary steps into the airy hallway. It was only early spring and there were windows open to the elements. Amorette thought it a little strange but simply wrapped her arms around herself and carried on walking. The doors to the courtyard were just around a corner and Amorette occupied herself with fishing a coin or two from her pocket to tip the steward at the door. She wasn't aware of the presence behind her, following her drunken footsteps until she was slammed roughly into a wall and a hand tightened around her throat.

 _ **I know that there's basically no Athos/Amorette at all yet, but they still dislike each other quite a lot so they have quite a bit to work through. It is going to happen though!**_


	15. Chapter 15

_**The first five chapters of this story all naturally fell to above 5,000 words so I tried to regiment them and stick to that because I quite like reading long chapters myself. I didn't try very hard though as most come to a natural end at around that mark, so I think they will all remain the same length. I've only just realised that while I do have a complete storyline plan I don't know how many chapters this is going to take. There's still quite a lot to fit in before the end though.**_

 _ **So there's something that happens within this chapter that I didn't know was there until I'd written it. It's a bit of a curveball, but I quite like it. I also quite like Aramis (not as much as Athos) as you will tell from this chapter.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Amorette gently placed her hand around her throat in front of the mirror. Her hands were too small to cover the marks that her father had left around her throat and wrist. Even three days after the attack the marks were still clearly visible; now a deep purple colour which contrasted greatly against her pale skin. She could hear Buckingham moving about beyond her locked bedroom door as he got ready to attend another party and no doubt play cards well into the next day. He had knocked on her door a short while before to ask if she needed anything before he left and Amorette had swiftly declined his offer. Buckingham thought she was ill and so did anyone else who had called to their lodgings. Amorette had retreated to her room after her father had attacked her and hadn't unlocked the door since. She hoped the bruises would begin to fade in a day or two so that she could at least venture out into the parlour.

It would be a week or two yet before she could venture outdoors with her neck completely exposed though. Amorette removed her hand and stared at the welts that were clearly discernible as the impression of a hand upon her skin. Amorette shuddered slightly as she imagined her father's hands on her again, holding her neck as he shoved her against the wall so that her feet dangled a foot above the ground. His purpose had been to scare her of course, but something in his eyes had told Amorette that her father wouldn't have despaired too much if he had squeezed too hard and she had died at his hand. In fact, Amorette supposed it was probably one of his secret fantasies. He couldn't dispose of her just yet though. Lord Barclay thought that if he pressured Amorette enough then she would give in to his demands and hand over the land and property that was rightfully his and for that he would need her alive. Amorette though, had no intention of letting her father have anything that had once belonged to her mother. She had already had a will drawn up detailing how her assets should be split equally between her cousins and an English aunt. Even distant relatives who Amorette had never set eyes on before in her whole life would inherit more than her own father.

A gentle knock at the door startled Amorette and she whipped around just in time to glimpse a thick letter being shoved through the crack between door and floor. "This just arrived," called Buckingham through the door. "Your cousin's reply you were waiting on?"

"Yes!" Amorette cried out excitedly as she retrieved the letter from the floor. It was indeed very thick and Amorette had the sneaking suspicion that it held a separate reply from Iseult. She tore open the letter and spared only a glance for her cousin's missive before turning over the second letter that had been wrapped in the first. It bore what was clearly a woman's handwriting and was addressed to Aramis. "Oh goodness he found her!" The words tumbled from Amorette's mouth without a thought to Buckingham who was still stood on the other side of the door.

"Who has found who?" he questioned.

Amorette jumped at the chance of her friend still being there. "George will you send a message to Aramis and tell him that there's a letter here for him? Please?"

"Aramis?" Buckingham queried. "The musketeer? You want to speak to him but you won't even open this damn door to me?"

Amorette sighed heavily. He had a point, but she couldn't bare anyone seeing the bruises that wrapped around her throat and asking questions. "George please just send the message. By the time that Aramis has a chance to come by I'm sure I'll be better by then."

"Fine," he muttered, "And you're sure there's nothing else you need? If you'd only open the door and let me look at you or fetch a doctor we might be able to get you on the mend a little quicker!"

"I'll be alright George, honestly," Amorette lied. "I just don't want to make you ill as well."

For a few moments there was more sound beyond the door before Amorette heard the carriage draw up outside to ferry Buckingham away to his party. Amorette felt a pang of longing for the carefree lifestyle her friend led. Up until three days ago, that had more or less been her life in Paris. Now though she would have to leave as soon as Aramis had his letter. Feeling dejected and miserable Amorette flopped down onto her bed again and grimaced at the prospect of another night shut up in her room.

She wasn't aware of falling asleep, but Amorette was certainly aware of waking. A gentle knock on the door downstairs had her stirring a little, but it was the heavy thuds that followed a few minutes later that really shook the sleep from her eyes. Amorette knew somehow that it was Aramis come for his letter. She hadn't expected him to call this soon at all and Amorette scrambled out of bed and threw a bed coat on over her nightgown. Answering the door would mean showing him the marks on her neck though. Amorette hesitated for just a moment, wondering if Aramis would come back in a day or two. Another thud at the door told her that he wouldn't. She scanned the room with her eyes looking for a scarf or shawl of some sort to cover her throat but the first thing she landed upon was a broad pearl choker necklace. Quickly placing it around her throat and catching the clasp Amorette rushed to the mirror and saw that the layers and layers of gems and pearls did indeed cover the marks on her neck rather well. Amorette unrolled the sleeves of the gown so that the marks on her wrist were covered and then for the first time in nearly four days she unlocked her bedroom door and ventured out into the parlour. As Amorette rushed down the staircase towards the door she contemplated that perhaps this was a good thing. Once she had given Aramis his letter she was free to leave Paris and her father behind.

Gently opening the door just a few inches, Amorette's suspicions were confirmed. It was indeed Aramis who stood before her. "I'm sorry if I woke you Mademoiselle, but I knew you were ill and I was worried when you didn't answer after the first few knocks. Should you be all alone if you're ill?"

"Oh nonsense I'm feeling a little better actually. I just hadn't expected you so soon that's all." Amorette pulled the door open fully to admit Aramis and stopped short. Athos stood directly behind him. He was clearly aware of the look of shock on her face and watched her for a few seconds more before touching the brim of his hat and nodding at Aramis and walking away. Amorette couldn't help but stare at his broad shoulders as he retreated down the street.

"Sorry about that." Aramis smiled apologetically. "He was walking this way and I couldn't think of a valid reason for us to walk separately."

Amorette let Aramis follow her back upstairs into the parlour and presented him with the still sealed letter. The marksman turned it over in his hands a few times before looking back up at her. "You haven't read it?" Aramis questioned as he ran his fingers over the still intact seal.

Amorette shook her head. "It wouldn't have been my place to read it. I'm sorry for the delay by the way. I don't know why it took so long to arrive. The messenger should have been there and back in two days."

"Don't be ridiculous." Aramis took her hand and squeezed tightly. "If it weren't for you I'd have no letter at all. I'm very grateful."

Amorette pulled her hand away quickly, well aware of the bruises that were hidden just beneath the cuff of her sleeve. "I'll leave you to read it," she said as she took hold of her cousin's letter to herself and took it to her room to begin writing her reply. It wasn't long before Aramis appeared in the doorway of her room with a forlorn look gracing his face. Amorette knew then that the letter wasn't what he had expected it to be. She turned around in her chair to smile ruefully at him. "Well?"

Aramis shrugged and walking towards her he held out the letter for her to take. "Perhaps Mademoiselle Amorette you may make more sense of it than I can."

Amorette uncertainly grasped the letter and held it, not sure whether it was right for her to read it or not. Would Iseult mind her reading it? "I thought you were good at this kind of thing Aramis?" Amorette quirked an eyebrow and it was met with the ghost of a smirk from Aramis. "There was me thinking you were the sensitive one that every madam in court pines after. There was me thinking you were a ladies man?"

Aramis chuckled lightly but Amorette could still see turbulence in his eyes. "I suppose I am. I must confess it's not an alien concept to me to come across an old lover. Usually I'm the one to end things though and amicably at that. The letter is something else though. See for yourself." Aramis nodded to the letter in her hand and Amorette was left with little choice but to open the letter and read.

 _Aramis,_

 _You shouldn't have asked after me. I'm a married woman now. I understand that our connection from many years ago still sparks emotion in you and it does me also. Those times are over now though. I'm astounded that your Cometess has found me out but you should not have asked it of her. I'll not be here long, so don't attempt to seek me out in Chartres. I'll be gone before you get here. Don't come. Don't write. We are strangers now Aramis. I wish you well._

 _Madam Iseult Villein._

Amorette turned the opened letter over in her hands looking for more, but that was all there was. Shocked, she looked back up towards Aramis. "What on earth…" Amorette let her sentence trail away to nothing as Aramis came and sat beside her.

"You see what I mean. Yes she's married but she's rejected me without even knowing what I would have to say to her. I have no illicit designs upon her; I only wish to know that she is well. I suppose this will have to suffice." Aramis took the letter from her and folded it to tuck it away.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that?" Amorette held out her hand for the letter again and Aramis obliged. Amorette studied it again for a few moments. "Aramis do you really want my honest opinion?" She watched as the marksman swallowed nervously and then nodded. "Well, if she really did want you to stay away that badly surely she would have protested a little more. This paragraph is a measly attempt to catch your attention. I think she wants you to go to her!"

Aramis looked confused. "She's married Mademoiselle. Isn't that reason enough for her to want me to stay away?"

Amorette closed her eyes for a few seconds and prayed that Franc never found out about what she was about to do. "What I'm about to tell you must stay between us, but the Pelletier's aren't my only friends who know of Iseult. There is another who was able to directly tell me that she was indeed in Chartres even before my cousin's first reply arrived. He told me that Iseult is frightened of someone. In fact he made it sound as if she had been threatened. He said she is hiding from this person in Chartres. If she really did want to hide herself away that badly then surely she would have protested more to you riding off to see her. I think her reply is short and evasive on purpose because she wants you to go to her on the pretext of gaining more answers. Perhaps Iseult cannot explain further until she is face to face with you. Take my advice as a young woman; if we want to hide away without being disturbed then we will put every effort into it."

Aramis' warm brown eyes gazed at her as if he couldn't really believe she existed. "So what do I do?" he asked.

"Go to her. Go as soon as you can." Amorette folded the letter and handed it back to him and watched as he tucked it inside his doublet. They both stood from the chair and Aramis headed towards the door. An idea was slowly forming in Amorette's mind. "I'll go with you if you like." She knew that there was a choice to be made within a short while; either leave Paris and her father behind or stay and face the music. Wouldn't a little excursion to Chartres for a day or two enable her to make the right decision? Without influence she could decide what was right for her without the fear of her father creeping round a corner towards her.

"I can't ask you to do that," replied Aramis.

"You didn't ask. I offered. Besides, my cousin would let us stay with him and if Iseult remains aloof then I'll be on hand to help." Aramis didn't seem keen on the idea but Amorette could see that her reasoning had made an impact. "It'll only be for a day or two. What trouble can we get into in two days Aramis?"

He smiled at her then, and Amorette knew she had won. In fact, it took so little persuading that she was sure that the only reason Aramis didn't want to take her with him was for her own safety. "Only if you promise to do as I say. If anything was to happen on the road for example and I told you to run you must promise me you will. I don't think there will be any trouble at all but you never can be too careful."

"I will Aramis, and everyone thinks I'm ill so there will be no questions about my absence at court." Amorette watched Aramis shoulders slump in defeat.

"Thinks?" he queried.

Amorette hastily added "I mean knows."

"If you're still ill it's certainly not a good idea Mademoiselle. To look at you, you don't look well enough to travel." Aramis crossed his arms and stared at her intently and for a moment Amorette was afraid that he would see right through her.

"I said I felt better. I'm only just awake after all, nothing that something to eat and some fresh air won't cure. Honestly."

Aramis didn't seem to want to argue with her as she moved towards a trunk and pulled out a simple dress and riding jacket. "Okay," he sighed. "I'll go to my captain and ask for a few days leave for personal reasons. I can't see him refusing but I'll need to go now if I want to catch him before he leaves for the Palace. Meet me at the garrison in an hour."

Amorette dressed in rather a hurry. Wearing her simple cotton dress and her riding jacket and boots, she fished for a hat to match. When she found one she moved to the mirror to pin it to her hair at an angle. She stopped short when she caught sight of herself though. Aramis was right, she looked a mess. She had been so preoccupied with staring at the marks that her father had made that she hadn't noticed how tired and withdrawn she looked. Reminding herself that she hadn't eaten in three days, Amorette made a mental note to stop and fetch something to eat on her way to meet Aramis. The necklace looked very out of place worn against riding attire but Amorette couldn't think what else to hide her bruises with better. She could wear a scarf but that would only be suitable for outdoors. Grabbing a chemise from her trunk, she put it on under her dress and found that the collar hid the bottom half of the necklace very well and it didn't look so out of place.

Amorette knew that she was early to meet Aramis as she crossed the Pont Neuf towards the Rue Du Bac. She let Baxter trot behind her as she led him by the reigns whilst eating a small pastry. She had purchased it from a market stall in Les Halles and whilst a small meal, Amorette found that she had lost her appetite after only a few bites. She put it down to not having eaten at all for days and forced herself to finish the sweet bread. Just before she reached the garrison she pinched her cheeks to bring some colour into them so that Aramis couldn't use her paleness as an excuse to delay or cancel.

When she led her horse under the archway into the garrison she found it remarkably empty. There was the odd off duty musketeer dotted about here and there but not one of them spared her a glance. Probably at the sound of her horse, Aramis emerged from the stables leading his own horse. "Are you quite sure about this Mademoiselle? I don't want you to feel obliged to come with me just because you promised to help me."

Amorette shook her head and straightened her hat as she turned Baxter around. "Aramis you are a musketeer! Where is your sense of adventure? Perhaps this is light relief for me, you know. I may or may not have my own reasons for wanting to leave the confines of the city for a few days."

"Even as a musketeer I will readily admit that my sense of adventure seems considerably lacking compared to yours Cometess!" Aramis moved towards Baxter and tugged on Amorette's reigns and saddle to check them and she felt warmth brewing inside her somewhere at the simple caring gesture. "Why do you need to leave the city?"

Amorette chuckled lightly before simpering "Ah Aramis, a Madam never tells."

Aramis smiled mischievously at her reply and placed his hands either side of her waist. "Here," he said and lifted her into her saddle. His hands had barely left her waist when a voice interrupted them.

"What's going on here?" Aramis and Amorette turned sharply and found D'artagnan framed in the archway. "Well I can clearly tell be your expressions that this isn't a simple afternoon ride! Where are you going?"

Aramis sighed heavily as he patted Amorette's horse. He walked towards D'artagnan and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Amorette watched as the two musketeers whispered to each other just out of earshot and hoped that D'artagnan's pained expression meant that he had agreed to keep their excursion quiet.

When Aramis turned back to her with a smile she knew that D'artagnan had promised to keep a secret for the second time that week. When Aramis swung himself into his own saddle they moved off with Aramis shouting a parting warning to D'artagnan as they passed him at the gate. "I mean it D'artagnan, not a word until we return!"

"Do you think he will keep the secret?" Amorette asked.

Aramis grimaced a little. "Not really. He'll last until Athos starts to question him and then he will give in, but hopefully that will give us time enough to at least get halfway there."

Amorette could think of nothing worse than Athos and the others following them to Chartres to march them back to Paris. "What exactly did you tell D'artagnan then?"

"Mademoiselle, I told our young friend that if he wished to know our destination then he would be delving into the Madam's private matters of which he has no right, and that he would have to ask you himself." Aramis smirked as he added, "I told him that you were madly in love with me and that I was taking you away from the city to let you down gently."

Amorette snorted. "Did he believe you Aramis?"

"God no! Everyone knows you're madly in love with Athos!" Aramis paused for dramatic effect and laughed when Amorette's jaw dropped. "I'm only teasing you! I said no such thing. I told D'artagnan that if he kept our absence quiet then I'd tell him all about it when I return."

Arriving in Chartres at dusk, Amorette and Aramis had a lengthy search ahead of them before they found the townhouse that belonged to Amorette's cousin Sinclair and were received. Amorette and her cousin had never been close and she only knew him by his second name of Sinclair. They had met once or twice at family gatherings but as he was considerably older than her, they had never formed any sort of bond at all. Family ties ran deep though and for that reason alone Amorette and her musketeer friend were warmly greeted and ushered into a dining room. They were served food and drink whilst they waited for Sinclair to return.

When he did though and spotted Aramis at the table with her, Amorette knew that something wasn't quite right. Sinclair's greeting was as warm as it could be, and the guests were offered the use of rooms at the house for as long as they needed. Her cousin poured himself a drink and sat with the heavy sigh that Amorette recognised as that of a man who had bad news to tell.

"I trust you are the musketeer my cousin wrote to me about?" Sinclair asked Aramis.

When Aramis nodded Sinclair's face paled a little. "Cousin what's happened?" Amorette noted the anxious tone in her own voice and exchanged a nervous glance with Aramis.

When Sinclair next spoke, he took on the gravely tone of an overtired man. "I do not take pleasure in availing you of this news Monsieur, but it must be done. When Mademoiselle Amorette wrote to me about your Madam Iseult it was not hard to seek her out. She was staying not far from here and kept herself to herself. She was very wary of me when I approached her, but I simply gave her your name and told her that you wished to seek her out. I left her to write you a letter and promised to send it on to you in Paris by way of my cousin. She presented her reply to me within a short while so I know it cannot have been a lengthy one. I do not know what it contained however and she had no wish to tell me. I didn't pry, just sent the letter back with the messenger as I had promised to do. The Madam kept to herself again after that, and it wasn't until two days after the letter had been sent that I noticed a small crowd amassed outside the house that she was staying in." Sinclair stopped to catch his breath and gulped nervously. In that split second Amorette knew exactly what her cousin was going to tell them. "The young Madam died in her sleep two nights ago of natural causes. I'm terribly sorry. As an unknown in the city, the body was buried a few hours later. I tried to stall them in hopes that you may have identified her but it was taken out of my hands."

"But the letter only arrived this morning," Amorette exclaimed. "Why the delay Sinclair?"

Her cousin looked confused. "Blame your second messenger; he was more than a day late to collect the letter!"

"What second messenger?" Amorette demanded. A glance at Aramis had her dropping the topic of conversation though. He had just lost someone he cared deeply about. Worries about messengers could wait. Amorette reached across the table and took his hand. Remarkably, he looked up and gave her a weak smile.

"Again, I'm terribly sorry for your loss. I don't believe I know anything else that would be of help to you Monsieur but I will be around at some point tomorrow if you need to talk. I'll leave you to it. Amorette you have the room on the third floor. Your friend is on the floor below."

Amorette nodded her thanks and Sinclair retreated from the room. For a long time there was silence as they digested the news of Iseult's passing. They drank the wine and picked at the leftover food, both not sure when to speak. Eventually Amorette braved the silence. "I'm sorry Aramis. You wanted to help her, and I encouraged that. If only the letter had gotten to us sooner we might have been able to make a difference."

"But it didn't Mademoiselle," mused Aramis. "The delay was not your fault. As I said earlier if you had not discovered her whereabouts then I would know nothing at all. Now at least they have a name to put to the face here." Amorette looked at him worriedly; sure that he was only saying all of this for her benefit. He placed his hand over hers, "Honestly, I've not seen her in many years and have loved others since. I have only the slightest feelings of friendship towards her now."

Amorette nodded and pulled her hand away. She sat back in her seat and yawned with tiredness. She didn't want to leave Aramis alone though. So she stayed and silence enveloped them once again. She felt her eyelids begin to droop before long and sat forward, leaning on her hand to keep from falling asleep. The bottle of wine was empty now.

"When are you and Athos going to sort out this little feud of yours then?" Aramis asked abruptly and Amorette jerked her head up from staring at the table-top to look at him.

"Whenever he decides to apologise for the horrible things he has said, and for searching my things in the street that day; which seems a long way off now if I'm entirely honest." Amorette let out a deep sigh and realised that Aramis was offering her opportunity to bad mouth Athos. "I suppose I know that he's not just doing it to cause trouble for me. For whatever reason, he truly believes that I am involved in something and all that I can do to change that is prove him wrong. We do not believe in ostracizing or abusing people for their beliefs do we?"

Aramis shook his head in disbelief. "You still defend him?"

"I'm not defending him I'm defending myself!" Amorette turned the empty glass on the table round in a circle. "I'm not going to sink to his level and accuse him of things that aren't right or fair. As I said Aramis, I will prove him wrong eventually. When I do he will eat his own hat. What I don't really understand is how he came to those conclusions in the first place. Where would he get such ludicrous ideas from Aramis?"

For a moment Amorette thought that Aramis wouldn't answer her question. He looked as if he wanted to do anything but. Amorette knew though that she would rather have Aramis explain it in his gentle and understanding manner than hear it during a shouting match with Athos. "He thinks that you've changed." Amorette was about to protest that she hadn't but Aramis held up a hand. "Don't say that you haven't Mademoiselle. You may not see it, but others do. You arrive back in Paris with friends who are not entirely welcome or liked there. You walk and talk differently, as if there's something you have that no one else knows about. You wear that coy smile almost like the Mona Lisa and entrap everyone into thinking that you are much more than you are. You may not believe it, but what you have presented on the outside has fooled enough people into thinking that you've changed. You may still be the frightened young Mademoiselle I met two years ago on the inside but you don't let anyone see that."

Amorette touched the necklace briefly with gentle fingers. What Aramis said struck a nerve with her. "Athos met that girl two years ago too. He met an even more frightened one twenty years ago Aramis. You're right, I have changed. If Athos thinks so low of me then there's obviously something within me that is different. I stand up for myself now."

Aramis nodded briefly before he caught sight of the pained look in her eyes. "I didn't mean it like that. What I mean to say is that outwardly new dresses and hairstyles and friends who are already causing trouble present an outward change. That, Madam is what the majority of this world cares about. Those who do not know you see change because that is all that they want to see. Athos believes you to be a spy because there are certain elements of your story that do not add up. There is a perfectly good reason for them, I'm sure. The thing is, Athos sees the outward change in you not because he does not know or care for you but because he does not want to. He still grieves for your sister, and he sees you as little more than a child. He underestimates you a great deal and thinks you cannot stand up for yourself. He thinks you are hiding behind Buckingham."

Amorette nodded her agreement. "Maybe I am hiding behind Buckingham-"

Aramis held up his hand again. "Not for the reasons you would have us all believe. You're smarter than that. I just want you to know that there is one musketeer in Paris who believes and trusts in you. So when Buckingham can no longer protect you from whatever it is you're running from, you can come to me, to us. I know you left Madrid for a reason, and I'm not going to ask you to tell me why. That is your private business and yours alone. I respect that as you have respected me in helping me in this matter."

Amorette didn't know what to say to any of that. She nodded again but couldn't find the words to explain how she felt in that moment. How did Aramis know more about her than she did about herself? Again she touched the necklace that hid the dark bruises on her neck but she didn't even contemplate telling Aramis about them. She knew what her father was like. Lowly musketeers wouldn't stand a chance against Lord Percy Barclay and his friends. At least Amorette had money and property that gave her some sway in the situation.

Aramis smiled at her as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. "Give Athos some time," he said. "Don't shut him out next time he makes accusations. Don't rise to it because it only fuels his fire. Let him tire himself out with it and come to terms with who you are. Eventually he will see you. I cannot say whether you will be any more than friends because I do not know. I know somewhere deep in your mind and heart that is what you want, but don't push too hard. Don't spend your life chasing him if you are going to get nothing back in return."

The conversation with Aramis led to a sleepless night for Amorette. Before dawn she had climbed onto the roof of her cousin's house to look down upon the valley and Sinclair met her there. "I've a meeting I should get to, but I shouldn't be long. That is if you'll still be here when I get back?"

Amorette shook her head. "Sorry cousin but I don't think we shall. Aramis will want to get back before he gets into too much trouble. I can't say that I blame him. There are things that I need to deal with in Paris myself. I appreciate you letting us stay, and for your help in the matter of the Madam Iseult, for all that it was really worth. There is something else that I must ask of you though. Its only a trivial matter. But if I need somewhere to come soon, just for a day or two until I can make proper plans-"

"There is a room here whenever you need it and for as long as you need it." Sinclair stared out at the sunrise for a few minutes before asking, "Your father?"

Amorette nodded. The question needed no answer. "Thank you again, cousin."

"This Aramis? He's not the one the whole family talks of is it? The one you were sweet on once?"

Amorette smiled wryly at her cousin's question. "No Sinclair. That was Athos. Aramis is one of his closest friends though."

Sinclair kissed her cheek and said his goodbyes. Crossing the roof he met Aramis and shook hands with him before disappearing into the house again. A few moments later Aramis and Amorette were able to watch Sinclair below them leave the house for his meeting. She turned to Aramis expectantly then. She could sense the words on his lips before he even spoke them.

"I'm sorry if I was out of line with you last night Mademoiselle Amorette. I had a little too much wine and the bad news of the day had rattled my thoughts, but I am better composed now."

"I'm sure you are," chortled Amorette. "But you did not speak out of turn. I was glad of your honesty. It is hard to find these days. Did you sleep?"

Aramis nodded. "I did actually, and I look on it with a new light now. I meant what I said. I have loved others since Iseult. I am sorry for her loss but I will not dwell upon it." He leaned against the wall that surrounded the roof of the house and Amorette mimicked his stance. Together they watched the sunrise, their elbows touching where they rested on the ledge. "You know, it's strange to think that here we are the two of us; a little lost in terms of love. In another life perhaps we could have been lost together. Perhaps we may even have found each other."

Amorette turned to look at Aramis with her eyebrows raised in surprise. "What are you saying Aramis?"

"Don't you think that it's odd? Don't you think that we owe it to each other to at least try?"

Amorette bewilderedly shook her head. "Try what Aramis?"

He didn't speak. He simply stared at her until she realised just what he meant. Amorette only had time to mutter a soft "Oh…" as his meaning came to her before he took her in his arms and kissed her.

 _ **Yeah, didn't see that one coming myself. So what do we think? Will there be anything between them or not? Also, there was a little clue thrown in there for later on, it's quite important to the plot of the next few chapters.**_


	16. Chapter 16

_**I'm about to resolve what happened in the last chapter, don't worry.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

In technical terms, Amorette supposed that Aramis was a good kisser. Amorette lacked experience in that department, but she could safely say it was the best kiss she had experienced in her short life. The kiss was tender and gentle with one of Aramis' arms around her waist and the other hand lifting and supporting her chin as he kissed her. When Amorette gingerly pulled away a few inches, for a few seconds they simply gazed at each other as they caught their breath. At length they both turned to resume their stance at the wall but neither of them spoke. Secretly Amorette hoped that Aramis felt the same way as she did about what had just happened.

"Well?" she tersely asked after a long time.

"On paper you and I are probably very compatible," muttered Aramis. "Both of us are a little lost in love, and free and available so it seems only right that there may be potential between us. I'm sorry, it's just…there's just nothing there."

Amorette breathed a huge sigh of relief. "There was nothing there for me either. I mean, it's not that you aren't a good kisser or anything like that; and heaven knows it would be easier for all concerned if there was a spark between just but…"

Aramis finished the sentence for her. "But I'm not Athos."

Amorette felt her eyes narrowing at the sly comment and rebuked it with one of her own. "And I'm not the Queen of France am I?" Aramis reminded her of a fish in that moment. His mouth opened and closed repeatedly as he searched for the words to say. "It's alright Aramis, I won't breathe a word. I've seen the way you watch her you know. It's how any woman wants to be beheld by the man that she loves. I should know, I've been waiting my whole life for someone to look at me like that and I feel it might never happen. Perhaps that's why I've noticed it."

Aramis placed a hand on her shoulder. "One day someone will look at you that way. You're a beautiful young woman with intelligence and sensitivity, not to mention a vast fortune. If someone comes along who does and they aren't Athos, don't shut them out. Perhaps you should give them a chance. Chances are you will fall head over heels for someone who is so wholly removed from Athos."

Amorette turned to watch Aramis has he looked out over the valley. In some ways it was a shame that there was nothing between Aramis and herself. He was certainly handsome, with his great height and brown eyes the colour of coco. He was also a good, honest man. Amorette couldn't explain exactly what it was that was missing from the kiss. She had never even shared a kiss so she wasn't to know if the missing spark would even be there if she ever did kiss Athos. The thought had her fretting a little. _Imagine mooning over a man for all of your life and then realising that there was nothing there in the first place when you actually got to kiss him._

A movement that caught the corner of Amorette's eye had her looking down into the narrow street below the house. There sat Franc La Belisle astride his horse, staring up at them. "What on earth is he doing here?"

It appeared that Franc had followed Amorette to Chartres in fear of her safety. Amorette thought that it was more likely that he wanted to be sure that nothing happened between her and Aramis.

"Do you think he saw anything?" Aramis asked from where he stood, saddling his own horse in the early morning sunshine.

Amorette was already mounted on her horse, looking towards the end of the street where Franc still sat atop his own horse. "Who cares if he did? That is, if you'd rather that people didn't know then I could ask him to keep it quiet. But it's not something I'm worried about."

Aramis mounted his horse and brought it into line with Amorette as they broke into a light canter. "I only asked because I thought perhaps it wouldn't be something you would want people to know about."

Amorette snorted. "Aramis I don't care what people think. As far as I'm concerned it's a private matter between you and me. Franc does have a rather over-active imagination. To anyone else it might look like two friends comforting each other after receiving bad news the day before."

They met Franc at the end of the street and began their journey back to Paris. On their way to Chartres Amorette and Aramis had made good time. They hadn't stopped once on the way, but the journey back was a different story. Franc had them stopping almost regularly every few hours so much so that by the time they were anywhere near Paris it was already dark. Amorette was almost dozing in her saddle when the slight touch of a hand upon her wrist had her jerking to attention. Franc had drawn his horse close to her and was still holding her wrist. Immediately Amorette wrenched her wrist from his grip as Franc explained that he had business elsewhere and veered off towards a different city gate. Amorette turned towards Aramis to find him watching her intently.

"Be honest with me," he implored. "Is Monsieur La Belisle the reason that you wanted to get out of Paris for a while? He clearly makes you uncomfortable. You let me take you in my arms and kiss you earlier but you won't even permit the slightest of his touch to your wrist."

Amorette blanched a little at the thought. She supposed Aramis was right. Franc was making her feel uncomfortable with his persistent attentions but she didn't consider him a threat. She saw him more as a little lost puppy lolloping about after her. It would have been a good excuse to throw Aramis off the scent but Amorette didn't want to lie to him. "You are right in that I'm not entirely comfortable around him, but Franc is harmless really. He just doesn't know when to stop. No, I wanted to leave for another reason."

Amorette let her answer hang in the air for a while, half expecting Aramis to pry but he didn't. Instead he simply said, "Would you like me to have a word with him? Warn him off?"

She shook her head and opened her mouth to answer, looking upwards as they passed through an archway of the old city gates. Before she could speak, a voice from behind her stopped her thoughts in their tracks. "Have a word with whom?"

Amorette turned slightly in her saddle to look behind her. Athos and Porthos must have been waiting just inside the city gates for them and trotted behind them once they passed through. "Great," Amorette exclaimed. "My day just gets better and better. I think I can find my own way home from here. Aramis You know where you can find me if you need to talk."

"Likewise," said Aramis with a nod.

Amorette pulled on Baxter's reigns to veer off in a different direction but found her path blocked. As soon as she had spoken Athos had moved to flank her right side. With Aramis still on her left she had no choice but to trot along with them. "Cometess I'm afraid both of you are needed at the garrison." With only those few gruff words Athos snatched the reigns from Amorette's grip. She looked to Aramis incredulously but he just shrugged his shoulders.

Cantering into the garrison courtyard, Amorette was extremely glad she was sat side saddle and that her legs rested on the left side so that it was Aramis who reached up to help her down. Everyone else dismounted too and Amorette walked towards a nearby table where Constance and D'artagnan sat together. Before D'artagnan could utter an apology Aramis clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry D'artagnan. I wouldn't have expected you to keep the secret. I only hoped to give us the time to leave the city behind us; I shouldn't have asked it of you."

Amorette's limbs were so tired that she was sorely tempted to sit down alongside Constance and D'artagnan, but her need of leaving the garrison won out and she stayed standing in the hopes that it would entice Athos to be quick with whatever it was that he wanted to say. At length they were all accounted for around the worn table.

"Aramis what on earth were you thinking?" Athos questioned from the top of the table. "What if something had happened along the road? What if you'd been ambushed? You're lucky we've been able to keep this from Treville otherwise there would have been serious consequences."

Amorette felt she had no choice but to speak up as she watched Aramis lower his head. "Aramis didn't drag me with him you know! I all but insisted that he take me with him! Nothing happened and we are perfectly well. Tell them why we went to Chartres Aramis and then I can be off to bed."

Aramis explained recognising one of the Pelletier brothers and asking Amorette for her help in discovering Iseult's whereabouts. When he announced Iseult's death Porthos reached forward and squeezed his friend's shoulder gently. For a few moments there was silence as everyone contemplated Aramis' words. D'artagnan and Constance held hands under the table and for a second Amorette was jealous of how freely they showed their affections. What she wouldn't give to have that kind of comfort when she needed it.

After a while Athos spoke again. "Aramis we all share great sympathy for you, and understand why you felt the need to go to Chartres in search of Iseult. I only wish you had come to us with this. One or more of us should have gone with you both." Amorette was sure that if Athos had gone with them, she would probably have decided not to go, but she kept the thought to herself. "The Cometess shouldn't have been allowed to accompany you. You knowingly put her at risk."

Aramis nodded his agreement and apologised. Athos and he continued to discuss the matter in quieter voices at the end of the table and Amorette failed to see why she was still there. She muttered a goodbye to D'artagnan, Constance and Porthos and turned to walk away from the table but Athos called after her. "I'm not needed in this," Amorette said as she turned back to face him.

Athos took a few steps closer to her. "Your presence is required on another matter Madam. I wish for you to tell us what it is that you are hiding beneath that pretty necklace of yours."

 _How could he possibly know?_ Amorette's hands shook a little as she searched her own mind for any possible way that Athos could know how her father had attacked her. "I…I…Don't know what you're talking about…" she stammered as Athos took another few steps closer.

Aramis moved to stand between them both. "Athos you are out of line now! What can possibly be hidden by the necklace? Spanish plans and maps? Names of English spies? That's enough now, let her be on her way."

Athos barely spared Aramis a glance. Instead he kept his eyes trained on Amorette. "I'm afraid I cannot do that. I need you to remove that necklace Cometess."

"This is ridiculous!" Amorette spat as she spoke. She turned towards Constance and D'artagnan. "I'm starving. Let's go in search of food you two?" Amorette held out her hand and Constance stood and took it."

Athos moved so that he stood between Amorette and the archway. When she tried to side-step him he moved so that she almost walked into him. "Athos!" It was Porthos' turn to growl a protest and Amorette took a few steps back, resigned to the fact that Athos wasn't letting her pass. Athos' nostrils flared in irritation and Amorette knew suddenly that he wasn't going to drop his suspicions.

When Athos spoke it was with carefully controlled anger. He spoke slowly and with an intent that sent a chill down Amorette's spine. "Yesterday you answered the door to Aramis wearing the necklace, still in your nightclothes."

"Perhaps she was trying it on, or in the process of getting it ready!" Constance cried from behind Amorette.

Athos' gaze was still trained on Amorette and it was to her alone that he spoke. "As I said, still in your night things and with your hair undone. You had clearly just woken up."

"I …forgot to take it off…" Amorette stammered even as she saw the cog turning in Athos' mind.

"Oh heaven forbid a woman should wear a necklace and forget to take it off before bed," said Constance with a roll of her eyes for emphasis.

"Why don't you tell them…" Athos hesitated for a second and he appeared to have doubts about what he was about to say. "…Tell them how you're mother died."

Amorette gasped and brought her mouth up to her hand to hide her shock. "How dare you!"

Athos simply raised his eyebrows and waited. Amorette could feel her face flushing red with anger, but there was also a niggling worry taking a firm grip. It appeared that Aramis had noticed. He looked from Amorette to Athos and back once or twice and Amorette realised that he had seen her flicker of weakness. Suddenly he nodded at Athos to continue and Amorette's eyes darted towards the archway again.

"Her mother died in her sleep. She'd forgotten to remove her necklace…she was strangled by her own jewellery." Amorette felt tears prick her eyes at the cold civility with which the words were spoken. Athos turned back to her again. "You would never forget to remove jewellery before you went to bed. Not after what happened to your mother." The quiet words were enough to make Amorette lose control. She barrelled past Athos towards the archway and thought she had almost made it when a hand roughly grabbed her arm and pulled her back. Almost in slow motion Athos' other hand reached towards her neck and there was nothing she could do to stop him. She heard Aramis' shout of protest as Athos slipped his fingers underneath the choker and yanked it from her neck.

Amorette couldn't stop the frightened whimper that escaped her mouth as the necklace came away from her throat and broke in Athos' hand. Some pearls landed on the table to clatter and bounce across it whilst others landed with small thuds in the mud and dirt at their feet and rolled. Instinctively Amorette brought a hand up to try to cover the bruises that covered her neck but she knew that it was a hopeless effort. Tears flowed freely down her cheeks and the shock of what had just occurred left her speechless. She stared at Athos and his ruddy red face. In his eyes there was undefinable anger and Amorette shrank back from him.

Athos brought his hand up towards Amorette's throat again and she took a quick step back, releasing a frightened gasp. Suddenly she watched his eyes soften. The effect was almost instant. Amorette felt her racing heart slow a little as Athos closed the space between them by taking a single wide step. "I'm not going to hurt you," Athos said as he gently took hold of Amorette's wrist and gingerly pulled her hand away from her throat. She knew now that even in the darkness everyone else could see the marks her father had left behind. "Did you think that I would?" The sudden question caught her off guard and Amorette almost felt the pain that she saw in Athos' eyes.

Despite the eyes that tried so hard to remain calm and the small smile that was meant to reassure Amorette she could feel the hand that still encased her wrist shaking with rage. She didn't want to admit it but Amorette couldn't lie to him so she said in a quiet voice, "You think I'm a traitor. You hate me…"

For a split second Athos let his eyes close and Amorette couldn't tell what he was thinking. She sensed the others closing in towards where they stood. Then the cobalt blue eyes flickered open again. "That's not true, I don't hate you. Even if I did that doesn't for a second mean I'd want to harm you Amorette." Athos lifted his free hand and gestured towards her neck. "May I?"

For a second Amorette hesitated. She knew Athos was a good man. She knew deep down that he had no intention of hurting her no matter what he thought of her. He was so angry though and that was what frightened Amorette. Her senses were heightened because of what her father had done to her, and because of the current turbulent relationship she had with Athos and that was what made her wary of him. What it came down to though was belief and trust. Briefly the memory of kissing Aramis that morning flashed before her eyes and even though it felt like years ago Amorette knew that it was no different to now. So she nodded gently. Athos touched the tip of her chin gently and pushed it up. Then his hand gingerly covered the distinct mark of a hand on her neck. Amorette could feel the hard callouses of his palm and fingers as they lightly brushed her tender skin. A shuddering breath was the only protest she made. The eyes before her were growing angry again.

After a few seconds Amorette slowly stepped back so that she was out of arms reach of Athos. She wanted to leave now more than ever but she knew that none of them would let her go without explaining what had happened to her.

"After the conversation we had last night why didn't you tell me about this?" Aramis gestured towards Amorette's neck as he spoke and she shook her head, at a complete loss for what to say.

"You need to tell us who did this to you!" Athos called. When Amorette didn't reply Athos began to step closer to her again. "What happened?" Athos threw his hands wide in exasperation. "Why won't you just tell me what's going on?"

The dam finally broke and Amorette sobbed. With her hand covering her mouth she spoke between her fingers. "He…He's…He's back."

Athos seemed to understand what her words meant without needing to know any more, but he still asked, "Who is back?"

"My father." Amorette's voice was just a barely discernible whisper but everyone was paying such rapid attention that they all heard what she had said.

Athos no longer looked as if he was trying to contain his anger. His nostrils flared and Amorette almost expected steam to flow from them like the dragon in the story that her mother had told her as a child. His face was puce in an instant and his lips twisted into such a scowl that Amorette was surprised he was able to speak. "And you spoke to him?" It was a question and a statement all at the same time.

"It… was rather…that he spoke…and I listened." Amorette twisted her hands together anxiously and hoped that was all the answer that Athos would need because she didn't think she would actually be able to bring herself to put what had happened into words.

The hope was in vain though. Athos was only inches from her now. "What did he say to you? Amorette? Please tell me?" He was almost pleading with her and it all but shattered Amorette's heart.

There was only one thing for it, blurt it all out quickly and then run. "He took my wrist in one hand and my throat in the other and he told me that he was going to kill me; and I believed him! There, is that what you want to hear!"

Athos simply stared at her for a moment and Amorette thought he was angry with her. Surely he had to understand how hard it would have been to admit that and ask for help. Couldn't he see that it was easier for her to keep it all to herself? Her father was a powerful man, and she was the only one who really had anything that she could hold over him apart from Buckingham. She would go to Buckingham when she could and tell him what had happened. That was what she would do, and Buckingham would deal with it as he had done before. She only wished that Buckingham had been in Madrid with her to stop what had happened there. Then she wouldn't have had to run, and she wouldn't have ended up here causing trouble for everyone.

Her thoughts were dashed though when Athos turned towards the archway at a run. Both she and Porthos tore after him and grabbed an arm to halt him. With barely a shrug he shook them both off. Lifting a hand he pointed a stern finger at Amorette. "I'm dealing with this now!"

"No!" she cried. "No you can't! Athos you can't take on my father and win!"

He turned to look at her sharply with his eyebrows raised, a ferocious look in his eyes. "What; like how he takes on you? How he puts his hand round your throat and hopes to win?" A strange look crossed his face as he gazed at a spot just over her left shoulder. "The question is, what on earth could you have done to provoke such an attack? Why the sudden random attack?" Amorette began to back away swiftly. Yet again Athos had turned something that was wholly out of her control into a grand scheme to destroy France. He followed her and Amorette kept moving until her back hit against a pillar. Still crying, Amorette threw her hands up in front of her without realising what she was doing. Closing her eyes as they blurred with tears, she didn't see Athos halt before her with a look of anguish on his face. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said any of that."

Gently she opened her eyes to find his hands gently clasping her still aloft wrists. Gently he tugged at the sleeve of her uninjured wrist until bare skin was visible. All there was to be seen was pale skin. He moved to her other wrist and did the same but this time the bruises were just visible in the darkness. "Don't go after my father Athos," she muttered. "Even before you had given up your title you were no match to take him on in a matter such as this. What can you possibly do that can help the situation? My father will let you tear your own life apart as he watches and then he will pick up all the pieces and fire them in different directions. If you really want to help me you will stay away from him. Let Buckingham exert his influence over the situation. God knows he'll relish the chance to boost his ego a little. My father would like nothing more to ruin you because he knows it would make me unhappy to see it. Don't give him the satisfaction."

Athos contemplated her words for what felt like a very long few minutes before he nodded his agreement. Amorette let a huge sigh escape her and finally braved the faces of the others. At once she caught D'artagnan's eye and realised why he looked so forlorn. Walking back towards them all she shook her head at him. "If I'd reported what I saw a few days ago would that have happened Mademoiselle?"

Amorette gazed at him imploringly. "D'artagnan I asked you not to say a word about it and you didn't betray my trust. It would have happened either way. I wanted it kept quiet for a reason. I won't involve anyone else in this." D'artagnan nodded meekly and Aramis offered her his arm to walk her home.

They were almost at the archway when Amorette suddenly stopped. "Wait, I've forgotten something." She trudged back towards Athos and before she could really think about what she was about to do she slapped him. "That is for thinking that my father attacked me because I'm an English spy!" The slap had no real force behind it and probably resembled more of a light tap but it made Amorette feel much better. Then she stood on her tip-toes and kissed the slightly reddened part of his cheek that the palm of her hand had made contact with. "You know I really hate you right now Athos." She smiled as she heard Porthos chuckling.

"That's a bit more like the Cometess we know!" Aramis exclaimed.

Amorette was about to turn again but she caught sight of some of the pearls scattered in the straw strewn dirt and touched her neck apprehensively. Almost immediately she felt something tug at her hair. "Here," said Athos as he appeared in front of her holding one of her hair pins. He tugged at her chemise until it gathered at the base of her throat and pinned the two sides together with the hair pin so that it resembled a broach. Then he turned up the collar of her riding jacket. "There, barely noticeable in the dark. You said you were hungry; let's get some food on the way!" With a tug of her arm he led her under the archway and the others followed behind them.

All six of them crossed the river together, stopping for food at the end of the Pont Neuf. They walked Constance the palace and then carried on through Les Halles towards the Marais. When they arrived outside her lodgings on the Rue des Minimes Amorette halted and looked up at the darkened windows. "Will you tell Buckingham tonight?" Athos asked.

"Yes. If he's here that is. He won't be, he'll be off somewhere playing cards. I'd rather it was that way. I don't think I have the energy to go through it all again tonight." At her words Athos nodded.

When Amorette entered the parlour and lit some of the candles she caught sight of the four musketeers still stood outside. She waved to let them know all was well and watched them move off down the street again. She leaned her head against the cool glass of the window and closed her eyes. She stayed like that until the glass no longer felt cold against her skin. Turning back to the room she let out a frightened squawk as a shadow crossed the room. It was only Franc, but after the last hour or two Amorette's nerves were almost in pieces. He quickly held up his hands to show that he meant no harm and Amorette apologised for screaming. She threw herself down onto the nearest couch and explained the last hour of her evening to him whilst he listened intently. Strangely though, when Amorette told him about what her father had done to her, he didn't seem the least bit surprised. Amorette had only told him because she was so tired she couldn't bear to hide it.

He was completely unmoved by the marks that she showed him and Amorette felt her eyebrow furrow in confusion. When he spoke, Amorette realised it was the first thing he had said since she had entered the room. "Why did you kiss that musketeer this morning?"

Amorette unashamedly stared at him. After everything she had just told him, that was the pinnacle piece of information that his mind had caught itself on. "Oh I haven't the energy for this Franc. Come back tomorrow and ask your questions then. Aramis is my friend; it was just something that happened. It meant nothing and we knew that before we even tried. I suppose we felt that we had to though."

Amorette stood to go towards her bedchamber, expecting Franc to get up to leave. Instead he threw himself down onto one knee and held out his hand towards her. Amorette almost laughed at the sight but his stoic face told her that Franc was serious. "You would try with a man like Aramis, but you will not try with me Amorette? Marry me? I know we've been here before but this time it's different. You need the protection that only a husband can offer you and it will prevent you from throwing yourself into the arms of those damned musketeers."

Amorette turned away from him and closed her eyes. "Get out Franc. Get out! And if you ever ask me to marry you again I'll throw you in the Seine!"

Amorette stormed into her room and slammed the door behind her. She launched herself onto her bed and let herself cry for what she told herself was the injustice and desolation of the life of a woman.

The usual din and chaos of morning in the musketeer garrison was just beginning. The sun was barely up and most men were readying themselves for their next shift of duty. Breakfast was hastily eaten, muskets and rapiers were polished and pauldrons were attached to doublets. There was a strange occurrence that broke the normality however when the Duke of Buckingham cantered into the yard atop his great steed. At once every musketeer who saw him congregated in the straw strewn yard and stared at him apprehensively. Buckingham was no friend to the musketeers who thought that he carried trouble around with him in his pockets.

For a few moments there was silence as the assembly of musketeers grew restless watching a man who they were only too happy to hate. Out of the corner of his eye Athos noticed Treville making his way downstairs from his office to stand with his men. "To what do we owe this pleasure Monsieur?" There was underlined suspicion and caution in Treville's voice for all of his men to hear and it was thought well founded even though Buckingham had come alone.

Buckingham seemed well aware of the prickly welcome he was receiving and dismounted his horse with his usual grace. He crossed the yard towards were Treville, Athos, Aramis, Porthos and D'artagnan took a few steps forward to meet him. "In truth messieurs I never thought I would see the day when I'd feel the need to call on the musketeers for help, but alas here I am."

The five men shifted uneasily as they watched Buckingham smile and turn his head gracefully as if he were still at court before the king and Queen. Athos pushed down the overwhelming desire to vomit at the sickly sweet tone in Buckingham's voice and said, "I'm afraid Monsieur that there is very little chance of musketeers extending their assistance to you this day, or on any other day in fact."

A rueful smile crossed Buckingham's face and he raised a hand. With an index finger extended into thin air he made his point. "Ah but Monsieur Athos, I never said that the help was for myself. It is for another. I have been made aware just this morning of a situation that warranted my immediate presence here. It is of great importance as you can see," said Buckingham as he tugged at yesterday's wine stained doublet that he still wore. "As you will all no doubt be aware, after a night at the card table, it's customary to need a few hours recuperation by sleeping. I have a bleary head and an emptier coin purse than I did when I left home yesterday evening but I'm here in front of a band of men who hate me more than most of my enemies. I think that establishes my real need of your assistance-"

"Enough of your flowery embellishment Duc," Treville barked all of a sudden. "State your need of us now or be off with you! The time of my men is not yours to waste!"

"Very well," sighed Buckingham. "I ask for help on behalf of someone who does not know I am here, and I would appreciate it if it stayed that way. I have been made aware of a gentleman who may have wrongful intentions towards a Madam. She does not see the threat as the man poses to her as a friend. I did not know it before this morning, but this gentleman has made three marriage proposals to the lady which were all solidly refused. However, I understand this man as he is indeed a friend of mine. I know that he will not give up his pursuit of the Madam so willingly. In fact I believe that the lady's protestations will only encourage him. I only ask that you watch him closely, watch him with her!"

D'artagnan, the youngest musketeer present and not quite as experienced or tactful asked, "Surely if this man is friend to you then there are ways and means for you to sort this yourself Monsieur. You have many friends, men and amenities at your disposal. What need have you of us?"

"I think certainly some of you would appreciate the offer to become involved when you consider that this Madam is indeed a friend of yours." Buckingham didn't even need to look at Athos to know how his eyes changed in that second.

"Who is the man?" Athos grunted.

With a small smile of satisfaction upon knowing that he had Athos' undivided attention, Buckingham continued. "The Cometess de La Feuillette this morning made me aware of a situation that occurred last night. On the whole there seems nothing untoward about the story, but if you delve a little deeper, things start to look more sinister. Mademoiselle Amorette disclosed to me that yesterday evening; our friend Franc la Belisle made her an offer of marriage. Now I have long been aware that Franc harboured feelings for the Cometess, but I thought them the innocent pangs of infatuation and something that should have passed long ago. When the Cometess was fifteen years old Franc came to me to seek my blessing of his intention to propose. Even all those years ago I was aware that Mademoiselle Amorette had no feelings save friendship for Franc and I knew there were many other reasons that a union between them wouldn't work. Money, politics and religion were just some. Immediately I forbade Franc from making an offer to Amorette. I knew she would refuse him so to save embarrassment for both young people I made it clear to Franc that he could never offer himself to her. Until this very morning I had always believed that he kept his promise to me.

I was wrong. Franc disobeyed me even then and made his offer. As I had insinuated, it was rejected. Five years ago he sought her out to make another offer; this one too was rejected in the same fashion as the first. Last night, the Cometess arrived home in your company to find Franc already waiting for her in our parlour. He made his third offer and was refused again. I know, Messieurs that this will sound a trivial matter that I could sort in a heartbeat but here is also the way in which the third proposal was presented. He's getting desperate now, and some of the things he said to her were rather unkind. In the Cometess' own words, _'He is everywhere I go.'_ I also have it on good authority from the English ambassador Jerome Weston that since Franc has returned to Paris there have been many occasions where he has been found following her. Weston is an honourable man who looked on the Cometess as he would his own daughter and brought the information to me. In short I believe that as he is so desperate now, he may not wait to make another proposal. He may behave rashly and as such poses a threat to the Cometess."

"He did meet us in Chartres yesterday morning," mused Aramis to which Buckingham nodded.

Athos still looked somewhat perplexed. "Monsieur whilst I understand your coming here to tell us, I do not understand why you believe our help is required. Surely as D'artagnan said you have many friends who could deal with the situation. At present there is another threat to the Cometess that outweighs the one you have presented to me."

"Athos, I'm well aware of the other threat and I'm asking you to leave Lord Barclay to me. I do not wish to cause offence but I am far more equipped to deal with him than you. My friends and I will have him removed from Paris before the week has ended. We all dislike him greatly, but my friends know Franc la Belisle well. They too believe him to be a friend to them and as such I do not know that I could trust them with such a matter. I know them well and understand them to be rakes who would probably give the game away to Franc. I do not trust them with this. That is why I seek help from the Musketeers."

"And how do you believe his desperation will manifest?" Porthos Queried.

"In truth," Buckingham sighed, "I do not know. I do not think he will make another proposal. She warned him off it but I see now what I did not see ten years ago. He wants her and he is determined to have her in whatever way he can."

Buckingham nodded to them by way of a goodbye and grabbed the reigns of his horse and climbed into the saddle again. He was turning his horse towards the archway when he seemed to think of something he had forgotten. "There is a connection you know. I do not believe that the events of recent days are just a coincidence. Her father's attack and Franc's proposal have all been a design to weaken Mademoiselle Amorette's resolve."

With that, Buckingham was gone in a flurry of dust and most of the musketeers dispersed, leaving the four men who were directly involved with the Cometess and their captain to mull over the news that Buckingham had brought. Aramis watched as Athos grimaced heavily before saying, "The Cometess was attacked by her father to frighten her, so much so that she was expected to accept the first offer of safety and security that was made to her. Franc la Belisle and Lord Barclay have cooked this up together. To think, I assumed it was because her father wanted her to steal French information."

 _ **So is Athos convinced of Amorette's innocence now? After all, helping Aramis was a very good turn. Somehow I don't think Athos is entirely convinced. I didn't like writing this chapter, but I had to expand on Amorette's relationship with her father and how Franc might factor into that.**_


	17. Chapter 17

_**I really didn't like writing that last chapter, I'm glad Amorette is back to her usual curious self now. I only own Amorette.**_

No amount of pleading from her friends could convince Amorette to go on the King and Queen's progress, no matter how much she wanted to. Most of the court were going to follow it, and every single one of Amorette's friends. Only those too old or ill to travel were staying in Paris. Some also stayed for business matters and planned to join the progress later on. Whole musketeer garrisons emptied, leaving only a skeleton guard in Paris secure the Louvre. It wasn't that Amorette didn't want to go, because she did very much so. In fact, she knew how enjoyable she would have found it visiting some of the most beautiful palaces that the Bourbons had access to outside the city. There was only one reason that she stayed.

Looking up at the crumbling apartments on the Rue Perdue on the banks of the river; Amorette wondered if she had done the right thing in leasing the rooms to hide the most precious package. She saw the curtains at one of the windows twitch gently and knew she had been seen. A moment later, she heard the release of the latch on the other side of the door and a young red-headed woman appeared. Before she had a chance to speak Amorette barraged through the door and shut it behind her. "You should have this door locked and bolted at all times Marie! Any man wielding a dagger could have released that latch from the outside!"

Marie simply shook her head and lead Amorette into the parlour of the old building. On the whole, the interior was decidedly different from the outside. The exterior presented a rather unsafe abode that had been vacated long ago but Amorette knew that the structure was perfectly safe. In fact, the interior décor wasn't much different than that of the rooms she currently shared with Buckingham. Marie had stayed for a time in Buckingham's old rooms, but Amorette had felt that too risky and had sent word that she should move here. Buckingham did own this building too, but his name was not on the lease and Amorette thought it better that it was untraceable.

"I did just let another visitor in," Marie called from ahead of her and Amorette turned to find Captain Neville of the Red Guards lounging on a couch in the middle of the room. He nodded to her with a smile, and Amorette silently reminded herself not to mention any of her business in front of him. Whilst she trusted Neville with Marie, she knew that he disagreed with her connections to the musketeers. That alone was enough to make her suspicious. The musketeers had a reputation for being good and honest men but the Red Guard regiments weren't so lucky. Neville was the only other person in Paris who knew of Marie though, and Amorette knew he harboured affection for the young woman. That would always have to be enough.

"What brings you here Monsieur?" Amorette asked as she slipped off her hat and coat and sat on the couch opposite him.

"Same reason as you I expect, Cometess," said Neville briskly as he sat up a little and patted the vacant area of the couch. Marie scuttled forwards and sat beside him. The two shared a small intimate smile before both turning their attention back to Amorette.

 _Oh no!_ The last thing Amorette needed to add to her list of problems was a turbulent relationship between Marie and Captain Neville. Sighing heavily, she acknowledged the way their hands naturally splayed on the material of the couch with their fingertips only centimetres apart. If she'd known earlier Amorette might have tried to stop it, but now she suspected both parties were in too deep to prise them apart with any success. No, instead she would just have to be ready and present if and when things did fall apart of their own accord. They couldn't carry on their little flirtation once Marie's true identity was known to Paris. Amorette knew only too well that once Marie was ready to reveal herself for what she really was, she would be married off to the highest bidder to buy her silence. Bleakly Amorette wished that she had left the poor girl behind in Madrid but those pleading hazel eyes of a young woman who was lost and in search of her sister who she had never met had pulled at Amorette's heart strings. Instead Amorette just had to take pride in the fact that she had saved the girl from the terrible fate of trying to find her way to Paris alone. Without Amorette's help Marie would probably have been long dead.

"Neville comes to see me most days," simpered Marie, "Which is more than I can say for you Cometess. It has been quite a while since you've called to visit!"

Amorette closed her eyes in exasperation. "Marie you know that I wanted to come. There have been other matters that I've had to deal with. Me coming so frequently would not help you either. I'm already suspected of criminal acts by some, I wouldn't want to bring that to your own door. If only you were ready to make yourself known all this would stop. Surely you don't want to stay holed up here when everything you ever wanted is just across the river!"

Marie looked at Amorette blankly and Amorette supposed that had all changed now. Neville now factored into Marie's plans and it didn't look as if he was going anywhere fast. Amorette would have to remind Marie of just what was at stake. She didn't really want the young girl to admit her parentage and thrust herself into an irremovable limelight. Once it was done there would be no going back and Marie would turn into a pawn to be used and bartered with. Today was not the day for such discussions though, especially with Neville in attendance.

Hours later, when Amorette finally left the tenement and headed towards the river she found the streets strangely crowded. Paris was bathed in that glorious orange glow that was the beginnings of the sunset and it was certainly well after the end of the working day for many. She realised why a few minutes later as she was jostled by a shoulder bumping into hers as she walked and a gaggle of young women hurried on past her. One of them had dropped a pamphlet and Amorette crouched to pick it up from the ground. The title boasted _'The Moste Odde and pleasing sketches of Petit Da Vinci'_.

 _Oh not again_ thought Amorette as she flicked through the pamphlet. She gasped almost as she glanced at the first sketch. These were far worse than any she had seen before. The mocking of nobility was always a draw for the poorer of society but this was something else. "Mademoiselles!" she called to the retreating backs of the young girls as they reached the street corner, "Where did you get these?" The young girls either didn't hear her, or didn't want to and a few seconds later they turned the corner and disappeared from sight. Amorette turned her attention back to the pamphlet and turned page after page, her face burning redder and redder with each one. The sketches were more graphic and thought provoking than any before-hand and some probably incited racial hatred and approved of the degradation of women. Amorette almost crumpled the parchment in anger but a sketch on the sixth page caught her attention. The sketch was of herself and Buckingham carrying barrels of smoking gunpowder between them as they learned in towards each other, lips puckered as if about to kiss. Huffing in frustration Amorette turned to page seven and her jaw dropped. It was one thing to mock the nobility and make fun of the King's political choices but this sketch went beyond what anyone should find funny.

Decision made, Amorette turned on her heel and made her way towards the musketeer garrison on the Rue du Bac. On her way she passed a young boy selling pamphlets on the street. He was yelling about his produce so quickly that Amorette had trouble discerning what he was saying apart from a few phrases. Usually, only the wealthier had intentions of buying such pamphlets but this boy was quickly running out of stock. Amorette watched as even some of the poorer people pressed coins into the boys hand and snatched the folded and bound parchment sheets. Amorette shook her head in annoyance but the boy quickly sold his last few pamphlets and moved off.

Marching into the garrison, Amorette gazed around her at the still silence. There was no one to be seen and Amorette suddenly remembered that all four musketeers that she would have sought out for help were with the King on his progress. Sighing in defeat, Amorette knew she would have to go to a Red guard Captain with what she had found but the thought didn't fill her with absolute confidence. Red Guards would dismiss what she had found and laugh behind her back once she had gone. She didn't even think Neville would take it seriously. Not knowing just what to do, Amorette stalled in the shade of the archway as she contemplated riding out to meet the progress herself. She knew that was a foolish idea. She had no way to track them. Her prayers were answered when a voice permeated her thoughts. "He isn't here!" Amorette turned in the direction of the voice to find Treville looking down on her from his balcony.

Amorette breathed a sigh of relief and raced towards the steps. Meeting Treville on the balcony she said, "Then I'm sure you can help me captain!" Amorette thrust the pamphlet at the captain, well aware of what he had insinuated by the statement that he had called down to her. She supposed in a way he was right. Whilst she had known any of the four musketeers she claimed friendship with would have been capable of helping her with this, she knew that deep down there was hope in her heart that she would at least catch a glimpse of Athos whilst there. Catching a glimpse was better in fact than having to speak to him. Simply looking at Athos from afar now seemed a better prospect than trying to have a conversation. They only argued and disagreed nowadays.

Treville flicked through the pamphlet and nodded at her. "I'll bring this to the attention of the king when he returns Cometess. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

Amorette felt herself dismissed as Treville turned to walk away. "Captain, there's a very err…" Amorette stumbled over her words, unsure how to put them. "A… very… graphic sketch on page seven that warrants more action I think!"

Treville turned back towards Amorette to scrutinise her face for a few seconds before opening the pamphlet again. He spared a few seconds for the ridiculous sketch of herself and Buckingham before he turned the page and Amorette saw his eyes bulge. Anger apparent in his features, he hurriedly asked, "Cometess where did you find this?"

"On the street," Amorette replied. "There was a boy selling them, my guess is they will be all over the Latin Quarter by now, and will be throughout the city by tomorrow. I just thought someone with the right intentions ought to see it." Amorette watched as Treville still stared with distaste at the lewd sketch of the Queen that took up two pages of the pamphlet. It didn't matter about the crudeness of the sketch though; it was the little drawings of muskets around her head that enlightened the Queen's potential danger.

"On second thoughts I'll ride out tonight and meet the King and Queen."

Amorette knew it was wrong for the mass of people to crowd around the banks of the Seine to watch as the Red Guards had pulled Duchesse Saxe-Jena; Odette la Tremoille's body from the dregs of the river, but curiosity was a sin that everyone was guilty of. Amorette didn't know the woman well at all. She had not been staying in Paris for long and should have been with the court on its progress but had not followed. She had been reported missing and her rooms searched. Nothing of importance had been found though, until earlier that morning when the poor woman's corpse had entangled itself in some fishing nets.

Now, Amorette and a few other women stood shoulder to shoulder in sympathy for Odette as she was roughly pulled from the water into a little fishing boat and rowed ashore. She could hear men behind her laughing and jeering about the body's lack of clothing and well aware that the men would hear her, she turned to the well-dressed grisette on her right and called, "That's your typical Parisian for you! Sympathetic to a fault." The young woman nodded grimly. Amorette couldn't really blame the men though. It was indeed a crude sight to behold. The dress that the Duchesse had worn was so heavy that it had prevented her from rising to the surface. It had also tangled in the fishing nets and someone had the gruesome task of cutting the woman free of her dress so that they could rescue the body.

Now Odette la Tremoille lay in just her chemise and stays; her water logged hair fanned out on the ground beneath her. Seeing Captain Neville crouched over the fishing nets that were now being pulled from the water Amorette took a few steps forward until she stood behind him. The body was quickly covered with a linen sheet and men set to work freeing the woman's dress from the nets. It was in stark contrast to the many times when someone of a much lower place in society had met their end in the river. There would be no search. If the body was even found rising to the surface, no one took the time to fetch the fishing nets to search for any belongings that the poor wretch might have had on their person at the time.

It was quickly concluded that Odette had either jumped or simply fallen in. Amorette supposed that if she had been a little intoxicated and had slipped into the river; even at low tide the thick and heavy skirts of her dress would have made rescuing herself impossible. Not even a man or two who might have witnessed and attempted to pull her out would have had any success. She would have sunk like a stone. Amorette watched as five Red Guards lifted the torn dress carefully from another little fishing boat and dumped it on the ground. At once all around jumped backwards as they were hit by little droplets of putrid river water. The dress had once been light pink in colour, but the dirt of the river had turned it a muddy brown and grey. Only the pink beads and white pearls sewed into the bodice and skirt retained their original colour.

Amorette felt the bile rise into her throat and forced it back down again. She could think of nothing worse than drowning in the Seine with the murky, waste-water filling her lungs. She shook the thought from her head and instead concentrated on Captain Neville who was now searching the pockets of the soaked dress. There was a coin purse that still held a few coins and a posy of squashed flowers that would have been to ward off horrible smells. There was a similar one in the pocket of Amorette's own dress at that very moment. There was also a crumpled piece of paper but Amorette was certain that any ink that had marked it would have been washed away or faded by the water. When Neville managed to unravel the paper and open it out, they both stared down at Le Pendu of the Marseille Tarot; _The Hanged Man_. It was not a card from a deck, but rather the sketch onto parchment of a particular card. There was no mistaking it even in the fading light. Why would the Duchesse be carrying such a thing in her pocket? Amorette shivered suddenly and looked around her expecting to see the eyes of someone that she knew upon her, but the small crowd that had gathered were slowly dispersing now. Neville crumpled the piece of parchment before Amorette could stop him and threw it back into the water. Amorette glared at him even as she realised that the Red Guard was just trying to prevent the stirring up of rumour and unrest. The woman had either jumped of her own accord or fallen in by accident and people whispering about witchcraft and tarot cards would only complicate the matter.

What was complicated though was Amorette's sleeping pattern. She'd been experiencing a recurring dream since she had returned to Paris that had so far made very little sense to her, but in the days after the discovery of Odette la Tremoille's body it seemed to be falling into place a bit. Falling asleep would mean having to see it again and Amorette wasn't sure she could stomach it. Instead she tried to survive on as little sleep as possible whilst the niggling thoughts tortured her. Strangely when the news came a month later that the Queen was returning from the progress early Amorette felt a little comfort. With the return of her friends she hoped to find some distraction. There was also a part of her that would feel a little safer. She had visited Marie a little more both for the company and because she had felt bad when the young girl had complained about the lack of visits but she had yet to come into contact with Captain Neville again. Amorette suspected that he was avoiding her so that she couldn't question him about that tarot sketch that they had both seen.

Alone and worried in Buckingham's lodgings, Amorette soon found herself appealing for the use of Buckingham's old rooms in the palace. Even though most of the rooms were empty with the court away, there was something about the halls and corridors that were more reassuring even with only a musketeer or two for company. The very evening after her first night's stay in the Palace, Amorette was glad of her decision to move there. Just as the curfew bell rang out and she settled into bed with a book, Amorette heard a strange cry from somewhere nearby. Telling herself that it was just a sound from the city, Amorette got up and closed the opened window. It wasn't until an hour or two later, propped up in bed with her book resting against her raised knee that Amorette heard thundering footsteps outside her door. Knowing immediately that something wasn't right, she got out of bed and opened the door that led back into her parlour. For a few moments the footsteps continued, and the shouting confirmed that it was indeed Red Guards the corridor.

Amorette felt a little reassured by that and opened the door a few inches to look out. What she saw had her letting the door swing open as her hands fell to her sides. Two Red Guards carried a stretcher between them that held a body covered by white linen. The sight had Amorette's mind jarring. There was no way for her to tell who was under that cloth and she forced herself to take a few steps back into the room. When a slim, white hand tumbled out from underneath the hem of the linen Amorette let out a gasp and covered her hand with her mouth. The hand was not that of a young woman. The mottled pale skin and large ring belonged to Madam Karlotta de la Roche. Amorette had long suspected that the ring was in fact a fake jewel but she knew it all the same. She moved towards the door again and watched the sparkle of the jewel as Karlotta was carried down the corridor and disappeared round a corner. Amorette wrapped a shawl around her and went the way that the Red Guards had come towards the rooms that belonged to the elderly woman. Walking inside her rooms, Amorette found a few guards emptying bath water into buckets and tipping them out of the window. In the corner, two maids stood crying. Captain Neville strode straight towards her when he turned and caught sight of her. "Cometess you shouldn't be here!"

Amorette held a hand up to stop him from coming closer to her. "What's happened Captain and don't spare any details. My nerves can't bear anything but the truth."

Neville shook his head before smiling knowingly at her. "Just can't help yourself can you Cometess? Very well, Madam Karlotta had her maids draw her bath and then sent them away. She lifted the wrong oil and poured it into the bath." Amorette followed Neville's pointed finger with her eyes towards a little table that was quite far away from the bathtub. A small half empty bottle of yellow liquid stood upon it. "We don't know what the oil is but it may just be something that she had an allergic reaction to. That's all Cometess, nothing sinister or untoward. The maids had sewing work they were to do this evening which they left behind. They came back to fetch it and found Madam in the bath." Neville brought a hand up to rest on Amorette's shoulder and squeezed gently. "Don't worry yourself over this Mademoiselle. These things happen. The Madam was an old lady; she simply forgot which oil was which."

With that Neville turned away from her and back to his men. There was something not quite right about that bottle of oil. Amorette took a second to consider the table that stood right by the bath and held a box of scented oils and potions similar to one she had herself. Why was that half used bottle sitting so far away from the bath? Putting the puzzle to the back of her mind for later, Amorette turned to the two maids who still snivelled in the corner. "Come on you two; let's get you a stiff drink in my rooms and some sweet cake if you are lucky."

The very next evening Amorette ignored the curfew bell and traced her way to the entrance hall of the Louvre. She waited in the crisp cool air, sheltered from the heavy rain by the overhanging balcony. When the Queen and her retinue finally turned the bend and came into view on the road Amorette felt the knot in her stomach slowly begin to unravel. Just glimpsing the blue cloaks of the musketeers in the distance; there was a large part of her that wanted to take what suspicions she had straight to Athos. He was a forward thinking man who would no doubt come to the same conclusions as Amorette already had but when their recent turbulent relationship was considered, perhaps it was more beneficial to wait and see if there was proof to be found. Amorette held her breath as he passed her on the stairs, sparing her barely a glance as his boots squelched underfoot and rainwater dripped from the ends of his hair and beard. There was something so alive about his eyes in that moment, perhaps from the horse ride in the cool rain that made Amorette's own eyes widen in wonder. When Claude marched up the steps she drew her into a strong hug and Amorette let herself sag against her boisterous friend for just a moment before recovering herself in time to greet the Queen and Constance who walked hand in hand.

Constance really did miss nothing though. Her eyes met Amorette's as they hurried through the doors away from the cool air. "What have we missed?" The single auburn eyebrow quirked curiously and as Amorette finally let out a breath all three women gazed at her intently, unsure about just what it was they were about to be told.

Amorette swung around to the room again, her sixth glass of wine in hand and her other running through her now lose hair. "Oh come on, a shrewd old bat like the Duchesse Saxe-Jena puts the wrong oil into her bath and then walks the distance of half the room to put the bottle away? Then walks back towards the bath? NO! I don't think so, it makes no sense whatsoever! Don't you see that there's something not right about this?"

Constance shook her head. She had only had a little wine and disbelieved Amorette's theories completely. "You need to stop drinking so much and sleep a little more Amorette!"

"Constance there's something amiss in all this I know there is. Let's at least search her room?"

Claude had shared Amorette's drinking habits that evening, and even if she didn't believe Amorette's theories she was at least willing to humour them. "Oh alright I'll go with you," sighed Claude. "If only to stop your drunken rambling."

Amorette beamed with happiness and set down her glass of wine to head towards the door. The Queen had gone to bed hours ago and Constance would have gone too if Amorette had not persuaded her to stay, but she didn't think she could persuade the young seamstress to room search at such a late hour, and she was right.

"I'm sorry Amorette but I should get back to D'artagnan before I'm missed. I won't say anything about this to him but be careful." Constance kissed both Amorette and Claude's cheeks and the two slightly intoxicated young women were left to their own not so sensible devices.

Creeping to Madam Karlotta's room with their candles held aloft, Amorette didn't know what they were going to find. Claude searched a few trunks and under the bed but seemed to give up after a minute or two and sat herself down in a chair. Amorette kept searching though. She overturned a rug, moved chests of drawers away from the wall and even rooted through jewellery boxes. She was right about one thing at least; all of the Madam's jewellery was fake. Amorette moved towards a pile of books and began to flick through them, her earlier excitement and suspicions quickly beginning to lose momentum. For a few moments there was only the ruffle of pages as she flicked through them. Lifting a new book that had not been read yet judging by the crisp white pages and undisturbed spine Amorette let the book fall open and stuffed her nose into the join of it. The fresh smell of parchment was one of her favourite smells and for a few seconds she indulged herself in that little pleasure before the loud thud of the door opening echoed around the room and Amorette dropped the book in shock as Claude jumped up out of her seat with a worried look on her face.

Athos stared at the two women incredulously. "What on earth do you two think you are doing here at such a late hour?"

Amorette readied herself for an argument as she opened her mouth to speak, but Claude got there first. "Oh for goodness sake Monsieur, hear her out and then we can all retire to bed. I'm in no mood to witness an argument and who knows; she may actually be right!"

Athos nodded as Porthos crossed the room and took a seat. Bleakly, Amorette wished that Aramis were here too. He at least would have tried to understand what she was about to say. "Odette la Tremoille died a month ago, drowned in the Seine. There was no proof of any foul play. Either she jumped or fell. In the dress she was wearing she sank like a stone. The thing is, there was something in her pocket that unnerved me; a sketch of a tarot card of _The Hanged Man_. Captain Neville threw it back into the Seine, said it was nothing to think on but I just thought it seemed strange. Then Karlotta de la Roche has her maids run her a bath but puts her own oil in?" Amorette strode towards the bathtub away from the fallen book. Pointing to the pretty box of bath oils she said, "There's a missing space in this box for the bottle. But Karlotta lifts the bottle and pours in her own oil, then moves towards that table over there." She watched Porthos follow her lead and get up to walk towards the table. "The Red Guards took the bottle away with them but I stood in this room and saw it placed there. Why on earth would a woman walk all that way to place the bottle there and then go back to the bath?"

Athos shrugged nonchalantly, as if he didn't really care about what he was listening to. "All this is just theoretical. Who are we to question a Madam's routine before bathing? Yet again, as with Odette la Tremoille there is nothing to suggest foul play," he said. "You've no right to be here Cometess. You should both return to bed before anyone else finds you here!"

"Oh I knew you wouldn't listen!" Amorette cried as she stormed across the room towards Athos. "You are letting your suspicions of me cloud your judgement of what has happened to these poor women! How like a man to think with every part of his anatomy except his actual brain! Just because you don't like my friends doesn't mean that someone didn't hurt these women-"

With a hand held up to halt her, Athos interrupted. "Please stop your endless prattling Mademoiselle. The ramblings of a lunatic are not required this evening. You have created all this in your head! For god sake go back to your own rooms and live your own life! Stop meddling in business that is not yours! You are only here to hear the sound of your own voice! Pick up your drunken skirts and run along!" Athos all but snarled the last sentence in Amorette's face and her palm twitched to slap him, so she did. This time she didn't apologise.

"You dare to speak to me in such a manner? I am your superior! Your better! Yet you dare to admonish me as if I were a small child? You should beg forgiveness from me!" Amorette stopped for breath and realised that she was a hair's breadth from Athos' face. Her finger was prodding his broad chest and she pulled it away quickly as if burnt. With one last scathing glare towards him she turned on her heel towards Claude. "Come on Claude. If the faithful musketeers won't listen to us then we shall take our story to the Red Guard Captain!"

Claude tiredly took Amorette's outstretched hand and turned to pull her friend towards the door as she eagerly anticipated bed. Amorette didn't move an inch though. She was staring at the book that she had dropped, or rather what had fallen from between the pages of the book that she had dropped. Just visible to her was the corner of a sketch eerily similar to one she had seen just a month ago. Pulling her hand free of Claude's, she crossed the room and kicked the book out of the way. Yelping in fright she snatched up the sketch of _The Hanged Man_ from the floor and turned to look at Athos and Porthos who now stood side by side. "What is it?" Porthos asked as he moved towards her and held out his hand.

Amorette let him take the sketch from her. "I swear I didn't plant that in the book. It must have been securely tucked inside it and I knocked it free when I dropped the book." Amorette took a deep breath, hoping that they weren't going to blame her for planting it.

"Don't worry, we believe you," said Porthos as he placed his hand on her shoulder. He turned the sketch the size of a real Tarot card over in his other hand before holding it up for Athos to see. She caught the look the two men shared and the knot in her stomach that had released itself earlier began to tighten again.

"What aren't you telling me Athos?"

Athos sighed deeply before he spoke. "The two women you have mentioned are not the only ones to receive sketches like that one. It is in fact why the Queen returned early to Paris. She too has received one. There is however no direct connection between these sketches and their deaths. Whilst your suspicions are understandable, both ladies are recorded as having died by their own means. You yourself have been the victim of some rather pernicious sketches meant to mock you. Treville showed us that pamphlet you found. I want you to consider these Tarot cards as something similar, meant to cause scorn and upset but physically harmless."

Amorette stared at him blankly, wondering why she hadn't noticed it before. She almost felt the chemical switch in her brain and snatched the sketch from Porthos' hand. Turning towards the candlelight she held it up to look closer. "Damn it! Why on earth didn't I think of that!" she cried. She turned and thrust the sketch into Athos' hand. "The same hand that drew those sketches in the pamphlet also drew this! Look at the shape of the face and the mouth!" Amorette pointed to the face of the character drawn in the sketch and Athos gazed down at it.

Leaning in to take in more of the drawing, Amorette felt her shoulder brush Athos' arm. She immediately stepped away from him and inwardly cringed when he noticed her reaction and brought his cobalt blue orbs to stare at her searchingly. His gaze softened at length though. "Go to your own rooms, and please don't speak of this to anyone else. For your own sake Mademoiselle Amorette stop meddling; for your own safety if nothing else." Amorette couldn't quite work out what she saw as Claude led her to the door and she spared a last glance back towards Athos. In his eyes it could have been curiosity or pride, or even affection.

"I'm not sorry," said Aramis as he gazed at the Tarot sketch, "That I missed another sparing match between Athos and the Cometess."

"You should be," Porthos chuckled. "She hit him again!"

Aramis smiled enviously. "Oh how I love it when they get angry!"

Both men roared with laughter.

 _ **So are Petit Da Vinci's sketches just a (not so) innocent mockery of the nobility, or is there something more sinister going on? Is Petit Da Vinci our murderer?**_


	18. Chapter 18

_**I'm trying to stay two chapters ahead with this. I'll only update once I've got a further two chapters tucked away. One chapter in a week will be the norm I think, if I get two I'm very proud of myself!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Despite Athos' grumpy attitude, Amorette knew that he had considered what she had told him. After their most recent argument she had noticed an increased musketeer and Red Guard presence around the Palace. Still using Buckingham's old rooms in the Louvre meant that Amorette was privy to the frequent whisperings about new recipients of the Tarot sketches. Whether there was any truth in it or not Amorette didn't know but she heard tell that at least another five women had found the sketches in their rooms over the course of the next three weeks. The thing was though, that most of the women felt rather uncomfortable and embarrassed about admitting that they had received a sketch. That fact alone got Amorette thinking that there were more than likely a lot more women who hadn't come forward just like Odette and Karlotta. One had crumpled the sketch and stuffed it into her pocket and the other had hurriedly tucked it into the binding of a book. Both women had tried to put the sketch to the back of their minds instead of alerting someone to the fact that they felt threatened.

Still suffering from her strange recurring dream, it was no surprise to Amorette to find herself still awake one evening long after the curfew bell had sounded. She had finished her book and wished she had thought to buy another one sooner. Not content to just toss and turn all night, Amorette got out of bed and poured herself a glass of wine. Walking out into the parlour and opening the door she knew that there would be no one around. There would be musketeers on guard beyond a double set of doors just a few metres away but they wouldn't know she was there unless they opened the door. The window that looked out over a pretty courtyard was just ahead of her and she opened it and crawled onto the window seat to stare out into the twilight for a while. The change of scenery, fresh air and glass of wine would hopefully help her sleep more peacefully. She was surprised there was not more movement down below. The king and the rest of court were due to arrive back in Paris early the next day but Amorette supposed the rooms must have all been readied and aired earlier on in the day.

Draining the last dregs of her wine Amorette took one last look out at the starry sky before shutting the window quietly and scrambling down from the window seat. Just has she placed her hand on the door knob to return to her room a sharp clanging sound resonated throughout the corridor. Something metal hit the floor with force and rolled. Amorette stepped back and stared down the empty corridor. Shouldn't she hear the hurried footsteps of musketeers running to the source of the noise? Instead there was silence except for the distinct sound of a woman crying. Curiosity more than piqued Amorette went in search of both sounds. After everything that had happened recently she wasn't about to ignore the crying of a woman who may be in need of help.

Just before Amorette turned into the hallway that led to the Queen's apartments something flew at her out of the darkness. Only the sound of the bundle of white crying stopped Amorette from screaming in fright. Pushing the woman away from her she found herself face to face with the Queen who stood in just a nightgown with her blonde hair tied in a simple braid and tears streaming down her cheeks. Amorette's initial attempts to calm her were futile as her crying only got worse. Amorette couldn't make out what the Queen was trying to say in-between sobs and instead had to settle for following the other woman's pointed finger. Bare feet slapping against the cold marble floor Amorette strained to see anything in the darkness of the corridor but when she stepped into something warm and sticky on the floor there was little doubt as to what it was. Amorette's empty wine glass that she still held slipped from her cold fingers and shattered just beside the head of a very dead Honoré St Clair.

Something hard had clearly collided with the woman's head and blood still oozed out onto the floor. Amorette scrambled back out of the way and almost tripped over a candlestick. She didn't need to look down at it to know that it was the culprit of Honoré St Clair's injury. That was what Amorette had heard crashing to the ground. Whoever had attacked Honoré had been interrupted by the Queen and scarpered, dropping the candlestick as they went. Suddenly fearful for herself and the Queen who stood a little way away Amorette almost blindly began to feel about in the darkness for a nearby table. Sure enough a few feet away she found the other candlestick that completed the pair still resting in its place on a side table. Gripping it tightly in one hand Amorette made her way back to the Queen and dragged her along the corridor. It was senseless to try and calm her whilst looking at the body of one of their peers so Amorette didn't speak until they reached a double set of doors and passed through them. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach when she stared about her and saw no one in sight. Something was definitely not right about this. Not a musketeer or Red Guard in sight and a woman had just been murdered? A cold icy dread began to grip Amorette's body as she turned to the still crying Queen and tried to calm her down.

"We need to find some musketeers! Where are they all?" Amorette yelled in frustration as she tightly clutched the Queen's wrist. Amorette had managed to calm her friend considerably and they now made their way through corridor after corridor in dark silence without interruption.

"There are no musketeers tonight on this side of the palace," said the Queen in a small voice.

Amorette stopped still in the corridor and turned to gape at the other woman. "What?"

"It is customary after a progress that the household musketeer guard be given a night off after we return to Paris. We thought today apt as its Sunday and the first day of spring. The Red Guards should be patrolling here. There will be Musketeers at a garrison though!"

The two women looked at each other for a long moment as Amorette let the Queen's words sink in. The woman was cold, tired and frightened for her life and there was only one person in all the world that she wanted in that moment; Aramis. Amorette nodded her agreement. She couldn't blame the woman as she knew that despite their differences she too would greatly appreciate Athos' presence with them at that moment. "Alright," sighed Amorette. "Here's what we will do. If we can reach the mile there is bound to be someone on duty there." The mile was a long grand gallery that was just off the entrance hall and at the other side of the Palace. It had to be guarded when passageways and doors from it led to virtually every part of the palace. "If we can get there we will be safe. The only trouble is finding it in the dark. I've no idea where we are."

Countless staircases and hallways later the two women managed to find a taper to light the candle and use it to guide their way. They used the paintings as directions and Amorette was both grateful and surprised at the Queen's vast knowledge of the Palace paintings and where they hanged. After a few wrong turns and tears they finally found themselves at the mile. There was not the sense of relief they expected to feel though. The mile was deserted. Still clutching each other's hands tightly, Amorette was unsure of who was shaking more. Huddled in a corner they discussed in whispers what to do next. There was no sense in turning back. They had come across no one on their way and Amorette felt sure that whoever had attacked Honoré St Clair was still somewhere within the Palace using the lack of military presence to their advantage. They had two choices, either stay put or move forward. Except that there was nowhere to move forward to.

"Your majesty you said that there would be musketeers on this side of the Palace so where are they!" Amorette gripped the candlestick tighter, sure now that something was lurking in wait for them.

"There will be some in the Entrance hall I hope-" The Queen was interrupted by the sound of a door a little way down the hall slamming. Both women couldn't help the loud shrieks they emitted before they slapped their hands across their mouths. "He's here isn't he? He's in this room with us!" The Queen began to sob in earnest, not paying any heed to the sound that she made and Amorette cursed inwardly. The lone candle flame was not enough to illuminate the gloom of the whole hall but Amorette felt sure that someone had been listening to them before-hand.

"No… No I think he went through the door and waits on the other side of it!" Amorette hoped she convinced the Queen because she fell very short of convincing herself. Amorette took a deep breath and let the resolve of what she was about to do sink in. "Your majesty do you think you could make it to the entrance hall yourself? Raise the alarm? I need to go after whoever that was. I need to see if I can stall them somehow!" Amorette thought it was the most foolish idea she had ever thought of. She was utterly terrified but she knew that she at least had to let the Queen get to safety. She would follow the assailant and even if she caught a glimpse of their face she could turn back. At least then they would have a lead to present to the musketeers.

"NO! I don't want to go alone!" The Queen was so shocked that Amorette had suggested such a thing that her sobbing had all but stopped instantly.

Amorette didn't think her next plan was the best idea, but it was the only other option. "Stay here then!" Amorette's whisper barely carried to where the Queen stood just inches from her.

Moving out into the room towards the slammed door, Amorette felt a cold hand slide into her empty one. "Don't leave me," whimpered the Queen.

Together the two women silently crossed the room towards the door, growing more aware of footsteps on the other side of it that grew louder and louder. The Queen began to sob again and Amorette let go of her hand. Gripping the candlestick in both hands she readied herself to put up as much fight as she could. Slowly the door creaked open and a tall black mass entered the hall. Amorette leapt towards it before she had time to think and brought her hands up to bring the candlestick down heavily on whomever it was that stood before her. A strong hand caught the candlestick just before it made contact with his head but there was no more force in Amorette's hold. Cobalt blue eyes stared at her in shock and Amorette let the candlestick drop from her hands to cause a din as it hit the wooden floor. "What on earth do you think you are doing sneaking around like that Athos? Where have you been?" Amorette squeaked, feeling her voice grow high pitched as she tried not to cry. "Come to think of it where have all of the musketeers been?"

"We came to check that you weren't wandering around in the dead of night again," said Aramis as he followed D'artagnan and Porthos through the door. As soon as Aramis spoke Amorette heard a small squeal from behind her and the Queen launched herself into his arms.

A bewildered D'artagnan looked from the sobbing Queen to Amorette. "What's happened?"

Amorette had to force herself not to let out a sob of her own. "Honoré St Clair is dead!"

"Whereabouts is she?" Athos asked as they approached the Queen's apartments. Aramis had gone on ahead with the Queen into her rooms and Amorette pointed towards the floor. Porthos took the candlestick that Athos held and lit more candles along the wall. With the growing candlelight the scene looked more gruesome.

"I heard that drop," said Amorette as she pointed to the candlestick that still lay on the floor. A glance to the shattered shards that an hour or two ago had been her wine glass had Amorette pointing to it in turn, "And that is mine. I dropped it when I found her. I came upon the Queen just after she herself saw this."

Alright," Athos muttered. It was not a smile, but Amorette thought she saw a sympathetic something there in his features.

Aramis returned to them, his face etched in worry. "I'll have to wake someone. The Queen can't be left alone in her state!"

Amorette moved away from Honoré's body towards him, glad of a reason not to look upon the sight any more. "I'll stay with her. There's no use waking someone else."

A hand gently gripped her upper arm as she moved around Aramis. "Are you sure?"

Amorette turned back to Athos and for the first time in a long while offered him a genuine warm smile. "It's probably better that way. I saw the same things she did. It might comfort her to have me with her because of that."

"I meant for your own comfort?" Athos didn't let go of her arm. "If you'd rather that someone else was fetched, it's fine."

Amorette shook her head at him. "It's fine honestly I don't mind staying with her. I'll not sleep much now anyway." Amorette eased her arm from his grip and entered the Queen's apartment.

Lack of sleep was not unexpected. Every sound outside had Amorette jerking to attention. As soon as the first strands of light emerged though the veils and drapes that covered the windows in the Queen's rooms Amorette gave up trying to get comfortable and sat up on the couch. When the first maids bustled into the room to begin their work Amorette deemed it safe enough for her to leave. No trace of the incident could be found in the corridor in the early morning light and Amorette was glad for it. Instead of going to her own rooms though, intuition had her feet taking off towards Honoré St Clair's room's one floor above. There was a hive of activity in the corridor as musketeers came and went from the room. Inside more were respectfully searching all around them and Aramis broke away from the group when he noticed her.

"Find anything?" Amorette asked as he reached her. Aramis gave her a grim smile before he pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. Amorette didn't have to ask what it was. Sure enough when Aramis unfolded it, _The Hanged Man_ stared back at her. "Why would Athos not take what I said seriously about all of this? There is a connection Aramis I'm sure of it!" Amorette felt her hand ball into a fist at her side.

"He did listen Mademoiselle Amorette. You and he are both very stubborn. I think perhaps he just didn't want to admit to you that he thought you may have been right. We had no way of knowing that Madam Honoré St Clair had received one of these Tarot sketches though. We cannot know unless the Madam comes forward to us."

"Why though would they not come forward?" It was a question that had bugged Amorette for days. Obviously the Tarot sketch of _The Hanged Man_ was supposed to mean something to these women. Perhaps whoever was behind all this wanted them to wallow in fear and hide the evidence? That way they were stewing in their own fear and their emotions were heightened.

Aramis simply shook his head. "You should get some rest Mademoiselle. You look exhausted." With a small smile he returned to the group of musketeers and Amorette was content to watch them all for a few moments before Constance burst into the room.

"I've been looking everywhere for you Amorette!" Constance cried as she rushed towards her. She stopped just short of her though and glanced down. "Why are you in your night things?" Amorette didn't answer her question but instead tried to listen in to the conversation of the musketeers. "And where are your shoes?"

"Shhh Constance, I'm trying to listen!" Amorette shook herself free of Constance's worried glances by moving further into the room but the musketeers were only discussing Honoré St Clair's movements for the last few days and where she might have been during the night before she returned to the Louvre.

Feeling a little dejected, Amorette gazed around the room until her eyes feel on the dressing screen across the room. Walking towards it Amorette was able to see that it concealed the bathtub. The bath oils were all neatly put away in their little box but there was water residue still on the floor around the bath. Honoré St Clair hadn't been returning to her rooms last night when she was attacked; she had been leaving them. Amorette's guess was that she had been leaving to meet a man. Why take a bath at the end of the day only to dress again to go out? There was obviously someone that Honoré wanted to impress. Before she could voice her concerns though, Constance had approached D'artagnan and been appraised of the situation. Grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her into a one armed hug Constance whispered "You poor thing, let's get you to bed for some rest!" Whisked from the room without warning, Amorette let Constance lead her back to her own rooms.

Constance fussed and pestered all the way back to Amorette's room. All that Amorette really wanted was to get into her own bed and rest but Constance had her going over every detail of what had happened the night before. Instead of climbing into bed Amorette threw herself down onto a chaise longe and watched as Constance bustled about the room tidying up. The little table nearby was littered with books and letters and Constance began to sort through them, putting away the books and letters that Amorette had finished reading or writing. "Here's one you haven't read yet," chimed Constance as she scurried past Amorette. Amorette took the small scroll that was tied with a purple ribbon into her hands and stared at it apprehensively.

"Constance was this on the table?" Constance turned from the fireplace where she was now stoking the fire to nod. When she saw how Amorette's face had drained of colour though she dropped the poker and moved back towards the couch. "Why what is it?"

"Constance did you look for me here this morning before you found me?" Constance nodded. "Was this on the table then?"

"Honestly? I didn't look that closely so I couldn't be sure," said a bewildered Constance.

Amorette stared down at the small scroll, just wide enough to resemble a Tarot card. She gently tugged on the purple ribbon until the knot slipped free. The ribbon floated to the ground as the scroll unravelled and there it was; _The Hanged Man_.

"Oh not you as well," sighed Constance. "You need to report this, now!"

Amorette rolled up the scroll again and held it tightly. "This is someone's idea of a joke Constance. It can't be real. What on earth could connect me to those other women? No this is some foolish person trying to play games with me, and I've a good idea who!"

Constance tried to snatch the paper from her but Amorette pulled away. "Amorette this is serious. Even if it is a joke, it's a pretty horrible one. Women are dying and if this is all connected the prankster might have placed you in the line of fire!"

Amorette knew that Constance was right, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was worrying over nothing. "Constance, give me one day? One day and if I'm wrong about this I'll report it. I don't want to trouble anyone over this when it might be nothing." Constance looked completely torn and Amorette knew that she could win her over with a pleading look. "Come and help me dress. I'll look into it this morning and get it over with!"

Constance followed Amorette into her bedroom and helped her dress. The silence was pained but Amorette didn't want to say anything in case Constance changed her mind. When she was dressed again and pulling on a coat, Constance turned to look at her with a pained expression. "You don't get a day Amorette. You get one morning. If you haven't proved that this is a harmless prank by luncheon we are reporting this!"

Amorette knew that she had no choice but to agree. She just hoped that she could find Buckingham in time. Amorette raced down the steps of the Louvre onto the lawn where the King and some courtiers were having a shooting party. Amorette didn't really understand what the draw was in shooting birds from the sky on consecutive days. She was sure that the King had spent most of his progress doing just that, but there he was again. She didn't have to go far to find Buckingham. He was nestled between courtiers at a table groaning with food. That explained the shooting then. The King wanted to show off in front of Buckingham.

Amorette sidled up behind him and whispered "Can I have a word?" She watched as he grinned at hearing her voice. She hadn't seen him in over a month and in different circumstances she would have been happy to see him too, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Buckingham might have found sending her that sketch funny. Although Buckingham had been on the progress she thought he was well equipped to be fully informed about the sketches that other women had received. When he finished his conversation and turned to look at her, his smile dropped.

Amorette knew she must look a sight. Her hair was completely loose and fell in messy waves down her back and the dark circles under her eyes spoke of countless sleepless nights. Buckingham led her across the lawn so that they were out of earshot of anyone else. "Mademoiselle is this about your father? Has he made contact again? If he has I'll-"

Amorette interrupted him with a snarl, "Do you think you are funny? I honestly thought you were past the stage of all these silly pranks. You've been a good friend to me George I won't deny that but this has gone too far this time!" Buckingham stared at her blankly, his mouth hanging open. Amorette faltered a little, but she had seen Buckingham lie about things like this before. She held up the Tarot sketch to him. "Tell me you didn't send me this; go on! People have died George! It's not funny!"

"Have you reported that?" Buckingham asked as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer to look at the sketch.

"No George but I have a mind to!" Amorette winced a little as his fingers pressed her wrist tightly. "You shouldn't be playing such horrible pranks when people have died George. It's not fair. You are already walking on egg-shells around court so imagine how people would feel if you were meddling in this!"

Amorette had planned to have a quiet conversation with Buckingham, but her anger and tiredness had gotten the better of her. She was well aware that people could probably overhear them. "I thought she was supposed to be resting?" Porthos muttered to D'artagnan.

Buckingham gripped even tighter on Amorette's wrist as he glared at her. "Enough of this now Mademoiselle. This is the one and only time I will tell you this. These sketches have absolutely nothing to do with me. You're right, women have died and here you are wrongly accusing me when someone clearly means you harm. Stop making such a scene and tell me when you found this!"

Amorette looked down at her feet in shame as she realised that Buckingham was telling the truth. She had never once seen him this angry. He was always so calm and coy. He was still holding her wrist tightly in his grip and when she didn't answer he began to twist it. "George you're hurting me!"

"Time to step in?" asked D'artagnan with an eyebrow raised. Athos gave a curt nod of the head and the four musketeers moved as one in Amorette's direction. They were too late to be of any assistance though. They watched from a distance as Amorette tore her wrist from Buckingham's grip and turned on her heel. She ran back up the steps past Constance and disappeared into the entrance hall.

"So what was that between Mademoiselle Amorette and the Duke of Buckingham earlier?" queried D'artagnan as he and Constance walked arm in arm through the market in Les Halles later that day. They had arranged to meet there after D'artagnan completed his day's duties. He took Constance's basket from her and looked at her imploringly. He wasn't sure if Constance knew all of Amorette's secrets but it was worth a try. When Constance turned to him with a guilty look on her face he knew that something was wrong. "Constance I'm not asking you to break anyone's confidence but if there's something more serious going on then perhaps I need to know."

Constance closed her eyes for a minute, regretting what she was about to do already. "It is more serious D'artagnan."

Amorette clutched the sketch in her hand as she stared out of the window towards the Seine. She had hidden in her room at the palace after the incident with Buckingham earlier that day and things still weren't much clearer in her head. If Buckingham had nothing to do with the sketch she had received, there was only really her father to consider. He had been forced out of Paris by Buckingham though. There was no doubting that her father wielded enough power from afar to conduct a trick like this, but it wasn't really his style. Amorette knew that she would have to report it eventually. Constance would only keep the secret for so long. _Or not_ , thought Amorette as she heard the door open and in walked Constance and four musketeers that she really didn't want to see in that moment. Treville brought up the rear.

"I'm sorry," whispered Constance, "But I had to tell someone."

Amorette shook her head lightly and smiled at Constance. She meant well and Amorette knew it. She just would have appreciated a little more time to think it all over.

"Same ink and parchment as the others," said Porthos as he held the sketch up to the light. "Why would you assume its fake Cometess?"

Porthos handed the parchment back to Amorette and she ran her fingers across it. "This is someone's rather nasty prank. I'm sure of it!"

"How so?" asked Athos as he held out his hand for the parchment.

Amorette passed it to him. "I thought that was rather obvious. Odette and Honoré St Clair's romantic liaisons with various suitors are well known and documented, and they don't trouble to hide that part of their lives. Karlotta de la Roche is so politically outspoken she as well be right wing! Her views have alienated her from most of court for her whole life! The other women who have been targeted with these sketches also have rash political views or rather incriminating affairs and lovers. Why would anyone want to tar me with the same brush? I did consider Buckingham because he is rather fond of nasty tricks but he says this has nothing to do with him and I'm inclined to believe him." Athos was gazing at the sketch but Amorette knew he was listening intently to her. As an afterthought she added with a hollow chuckle, "Perhaps it's because I'm an English or Spanish spy though."

Athos rolled his eyes. "I thought that had all died down though?" queried D'artagnan.

"It had," Amorette mused.

"Never the less, we will speak with Buckingham anyway," said Athos as he brought his gaze back to Amorette.

Aramis was pacing the room, a two fingers gently pulling on the natural curl of his moustache. "There is one thing you may have overlooked. All of those women who have been killed were at one point accused of witchcraft in some form-"

Amorette almost snorted. "Are you accusing me of being some sort of sorceress Aramis?"

He turned to smile at her light-heartedly. "No Madam but consider it. If you are right and this is a prank, perhaps someone wants you to be labelled as such. It's not much to go on I know, but it needs consideration. It would explain the use of the Tarot card. I suppose it makes little sense though. Why accuse women of witchcraft and then kill them? Why not let them face trail-"

Yet Again Aramis was interrupted but this time the voice came from the doorway. "And let the state burn them at the stake for their supposed crimes?" The Queen waved a hand to those who were seated, "Please don't get up." The men who were seated were already half standing and dropped back into their seats. The Queen took the vacant seat beside Amorette and took her hand. "I don't know what I would have done without you last night Cometess. You were so brave and controlled. Without you with me I'd have surely succumbed to some terrible shrieking fit and angered the murderer. Use that calm confidence now and think of how these women and you may all be connected."

Amorette let the genuine praise wash over her and pondered for a few minutes, but nothing came to mind. She shook her head in doubt. "Sorry, there's nothing. I'd never met any of them before I came here. I'd heard of karlotta de la Roche of course, but who in France hasn't. I can't see any way that we would all be connected."

"No ladies maids…" Constance muttered from Amorette's other side. "There's one connection."

The Queen nodded suddenly. "None of the women who have died were in my direct employ. They were friends or companions but they were here of their own choice."

The three women sat on the couch together were suddenly on the same wavelength as Amorette realised what they meant. She nodded too, "Women who have their own money and lands. They are governed by no man and are wholly responsible for themselves. There are many men who take issue with women like me in that sense."

"It's a start," mused Athos.

Amorette turned to Treville who had been oddly silent throughout their discussions. He was avidly watching them all with a small smirk on his face.

"Let me guess Captain, I'm not allowed to leave these rooms," asked Amorette with a gesture around the room.

Treville smiled knowingly at her. "Not quite, Cometess. You may roam freely around the Palace as long as a musketeer guard can follow at a distance. After sunset though I will ask that you remain in your rooms. I'll have a guard on your door as I've done with the other women who received sketches. We are still investigating the lack of Red Guard presence within the Palace last night too."

"I suppose that's not so bad. I can't go on like that forever though," Amorette announced as the men got up to leave. "We need to figure this out and fast."

"Leave the figuring out to us," Athos muttered bluntly. "I've told you already about meddling. That might be the sole reason you were targeted."

Amorette rolled her eyes at Athos' retreating back for what she felt like the thousandth time in her life.

 _ **Any ideas about who the killer is? Is it something to do with Amorette being a suspected spy? Or is there another reason for it?**_


	19. Chapter 19

_**I only own Amorette.**_

It was only as Amorette's wrist gave a twinge of pain that she realised that she still held the sketch of the Tarot card in her hands. Pulling the sleeve of her dress back a little she saw bright red marks encircling her wrists again. The sound of Aramis' voice from over her shoulder had her almost jumping out of her skin.

"Has that happened before?" he asked as he leaned over the back of the couch.

Amorette couldn't drag the sleeve back over her wrist quickly enough. "No." She held out the sketch, knowing that he had more than likely returned to fetch it. "Forget something?" Instead of taking the sketch from her, Aramis lightly gripped Amorette's hand and she was forced to abide as he pushed the cuff of her sleeve back a little. "It's nothing!" Amorette snatched her hand back. "I accused Buckingham of something that he didn't do Aramis! He's been a good friend to me and I repaid him like that. He didn't deserve that."

Aramis sighed heavily and moved around the couch so that he was able to sit on the arm rest beside her. "You said yourself Mademoiselle you've seen him play tricks like this before so surely he must understand your suspicions. Granted, he has every right to be unhappy about them, but it should never give him reason to lay hands on you. Has it happened before?"

Amorette shook her head gently but Aramis didn't seem convinced by her answer. Yet again she used the persuasive trick she had seen work countless times. She grabbed the sleeve of Aramis' doublet and looked up at him through her thick eyelashes. "I've never seen Buckingham like that. That is; I've seen him angry at others but he's never behaved like that towards me. I meant what I said though. Despite what you musketeers think of the Duke of Buckingham he has earned more than such foul treatment from me. I owe him a lot." Amorette held out the rolled up sketch to Aramis. "I trust you came back for this."

Yet again Aramis grabbed her hand, but this time he simply held it tightly. "I want you to promise me that if this happens again you will come to me with it."

Amorette could tell from Aramis' serious expression that he wouldn't permit her to argue. Instead she would have to settle for a condition of her own. "I will if you don't tell Athos!"

Aramis chuckled as he shook his head. Amorette knew that he would agree with her, and he did.

When Aramis re-joined his friends they were halfway to the Marais. There was a strange energy as the four musketeers left the streets of Les Halles behind and entered the more respectable area of the city. Almost at once they realised they were being followed and as they moved further towards Buckingham's lodgings the number of followers increased until Buckingham himself met them in the street. Buckingham's men fanned out around them, each one with their hand upon the hilt of their rapiers and swords. Somewhere in Athos' mind he vaguely thought that the sight was in essence very English. He felt Porthos stiffen beside him as his friend readied for the potential fight. For several minutes there was silence as each man weighed up an opponent. Out of the corner of his eye Athos thought he saw one of Buckingham's men wink at Porthos. Athos grabbed at the leather of Porthos' doublet as he jumped forwards towards the man.

"Now now gentlemen" simpered Buckingham, "Lets save the brawl for another day. I have the feeling that this encounter is for a reason. I trust you are here on behalf of our mutual friend?" When Athos nodded Buckingham gestured for them to follow him and moved off in the direction of his lodgings.

The musketeers were all surprised with how quickly Buckingham was able to dispose of his men. With just a simple jerk of the head they left the five men alone in Buckingham's study. "Messieurs I expect you are here to ask me if I have anything to do with these Tarot card sketches?" Buckingham lounged on a chaise Longue whilst the musketeers stood. Although they had been offered seats none of them had felt comfortable enough to sit.

"We understand that the Cometess did speak with you regarding that very matter, and whilst she seems convinced of your innocence in the matter I'm not entirely sure I can put so much faith in your word," said Athos. Buckingham scoffed but said nothing. He seemed to be enjoying watching his musketeer guests squirm before him. "We are all privy to the knowledge of schemes and tricks that you have played in the past that would certainly incriminate you in this. We would appreciate the giving of any knowledge you possess which may or may not be of use to us in our investigation."

"I know nothing. If I did know anything regarding this matter Athos, I'd have told Mademoiselle Amorette willingly. I've got nothing to hide and quite frankly I don't care for your insinuations!" Buckingham leapt off the chaise and rounded his desk. He grabbed a fistful of parchment and thrust it at them. "I did take the liberty in fact of compiling a list of any women who I believe may be in danger of receiving one of these sketches if they haven't already!"

Aramis caught the parchment and perused it as did Porthos over his shoulder. "Well this is very helpful of you," cried Porthos suspiciously.

"Indeed!" Buckingham grinned mischievously. "I've had relations with all of the women on that list, you understand. I do not think they have been targeted because they have lain with me, but it did occur to me that they have all been promiscuous in some way. You will notice that most of them are already married to other men!"

Aramis pocketed the list as a thought occurred to him. "Mademoiselle Amorette is not on this list though. It's in essence a list of your conquests and her name would never appear on such a list. Perhaps your theory is wrong Duc!"

Buckingham nodded knowingly. "I know she isn't on the list. That's my point. Either she's a red herring or she's more integral to the plot of it all than any of us realise." He smirked at Athos again. "Not that I would complain if she was on my list of conquests!"

Athos stepped forward until only the desk stood between himself and Buckingham. Aramis stepped forward too but he had no intention of stopping Athos if he made a move to hit Buckingham. In fact, he had a mind to join him if he did. "The Cometess may find your humour amusing Monsieur but I do not. I'll ask you to inform us if you do come by any information that may be of importance in this matter. Until then I'll ask you to keep your distance from her and anyone else that you suspect may be in danger." Athos turned to leave, letting out a breath he didn't realise he had been holding. It had taken a lot to keep his composure whilst gazing into Buckingham's impish eyes.

Buckingham wasn't going to let him go that easily though. "No I don't believe I shall keep my distance from the Cometess who is a friend to me. I pose no threat to her; I wouldn't hurt a hair on that girl's head!"

Aramis swung around before Athos even had time to react. "Then tell me about the marks you left upon her wrist earlier this morning Monsieur?"

"What?" Athos snarled as he grabbed Aramis' shoulder and turned the marksman towards him. Aramis grimaced as he realised he had spoken his last statement aloud. Amorette had asked him not to tell Athos, but that was not a thing to ask of him. She would simply have to understand that he couldn't keep a secret like that when Buckingham was the culprit. The English Duke brought out a ferocious anger in Aramis and his friends that they were unable to control well at all.

When Aramis said nothing Athos turned to Buckingham again. His hand shook with rage as he raised a finger to point at Buckingham. "As I said, you will keep your distance from the Cometess de la Feuillette!"

Athos left Buckingham's lodgings and raced out into the street before his anger had the chance to get the best of him. Normally, he wouldn't have given a second thought to a sparring match with Buckingham to defend a Madam's honour but right now he needed to remain calm and controlled. A brawl with English nobility would cause a lot of paperwork, though he didn't care overly if it got him in trouble. The one stabilising factor was that Athos knew how volatile his relationship with Amorette already was and he wasn't prepared to make things worse by causing a war between himself and another of her good friends.

"ATHOS!" As he heard Aramis call to him he turned to find the marksman jogging towards him. As D'artagnan and Porthos caught up with them, Aramis continued, "Mademoiselle Amorette asked me not to speak to you of what occurred between her and Buckingham on the promise that she would come to me if it happened again. I'd appreciate it Athos if you didn't mention it to her. She trusts me, and I think she really would confide in me if anything of this nature happens again and I don't want to ruin that trust."

Athos coldly considered his friend for a moment before he replied. "Alright. I think you're right about the Cometess trusting you. I'll not mention it to her but I'd like you to inform me if she does come to you, if anyone does hurt her."

For Amorette, trying to think straight was like reading two books simultaneously; absolutely impossible. Amorette had chosen a copy of a book that she had read many times in her life and found very comforting. She had always loved that feeling of returning to a past read to find a slightly younger version of herself tucked between the pages. Each time the book was read it grew fatter and fatter until upon each page Amorette could recognise the feelings, hopes, wishes and fears that she had experienced in the times before when she had turned to the book for comfort. There was no use trying now though. Her brain was so consumed with visons of Tarot cards and the women that had been killed that she ended up throwing the book into a trunk and shutting the lid.

Instead she called for a bath to be run and slipped into the warm scented water with a glass of wine. It was already dark outside and there were musketeers outside her door but Amorette didn't really feel worried or frightened. All that she really wanted was to sleep and she hoped that the hot bath would help. The light scent of lavender slowly encased her as she let the humidity ease her tired limbs. Tomorrow she would go back and search Karlotta de la Roche's rooms repeatedly until she found something of worth and then she would search Honoré St Clair's rooms. Unfortunately as Odette la Tremoille had died over a month ago in what was then thought to be a tragic accident, her rooms had been stripped and her belongings had been sent on to her family.

Amorette was determined to find something before someone else died, even if no one else really put any stock in what she had said. Letting her head fall back against the wall of the bathtub, Amorette's last thought before she fell asleep was that when she did find something of importance she would take it straight to Athos and prove him wholly and completely wrong.

 _First light in Paris was always rather tranquil. Meandering through the streets with only the other early risers pushing carts towards the market or pulling trunks towards the docks was rather exhilarating. Normally Amorette would let the smell of freshly baked bread waft towards her from the boulangerie across the street and run her hands across the metal barrier that separated her from the Seine; today though she didn't. Today there was no one else to be seen. There was no baker preparing his produce for those wealthy enough to buy breakfast and she walked with a sense of serious purpose. Without the sunlight Paris still presented quite a grey prospect. The river churned and flowed steadily beneath the Pont Neuf as Amorette made her way briskly across the bridge. It all happened so quickly that Amorette had no knowledge of how she came to be falling, but falling she was. The water raged below her as she hurtled towards the murky mass._

Amorette woke from her dream just as she hit the water. Jerking into a sitting position she let cold air fill her lungs and for a split second she was relieved that her nightmare was over. That was before she glanced about her and realised she was no longer in her bath. Her bath shirt was still upon her and she was wrapped in one of her own coats but she was no longer in her own rooms, or anywhere that she vaguely recognised. Panic gripped her suddenly as she realised that she lay outside on an earth bed of moss and leaves surrounded by trees. Turning her head from side to side she could see next to nothing except the trees that were made visible by the moonlight overhead.

There was no sound either and that frightened Amorette even more. The thought to scream or cry out for help never crossed her mind because she would surely be heard in the silence and she had the overwhelming feeling that someone who meant her harm was near. Realising that her feet were completely bare Amorette took small and careful steps in a random direction. Roaming in and out of the trees did not seem a logical course of action, but rather the preferable one to standing stock still and not doing anything to get herself out. Within a few minutes though Amorette felt hope stir within her. A flicker of light caught her attention and she realised that in the distance she could just make out the lights of the Palace through the trees. She was in the Jardin des Tuileries. Quickening her pace, Amorette would have broken out into a run if it weren't for her bare feet. Her heart hammered in her chest as she forced herself to think of running through those doors into the entrance hall and the doors slamming closed behind her. In a matter of moments she would be safe again. That was when the musketeer caught her eye. Through the trees she glimpsed the silhouette of a hat that she recognised. Sucking in a breath she ran towards him as fast as she could, thoughts of her bare feet abandoned.

She slipped a few times as her feet slapped against the wet leaves but she never took her eyes off the man ahead of her. In the darkness she couldn't tell whether he had noticed her or not. Musketeer by trade, she could startle him into reacting rather quickly and rashly by jumping from the trees into his arms so she slowed her pace. She was not far at all from him now and she had all but stopped walking altogether. Letting air flood her lungs as she caught her breath, the snapping of a twig underfoot had him turning in her direction. She could not see his face at all but something in his movement; in the way he stood had Amorette halting. She gasped as she realised her mistake. The man who now almost certainly gazed straight back at her was no musketeer at all.

In that split second Amorette decided she could not go to this man who may or may not be dangerous. He hadn't moved towards her or called out but she was sure that he had seen her by now. If he were just a bystander he would have called out to her or offered help of some kind. Instead he seemed happy enough to stand and watch her. Amorette let herself wait for a few seconds. There was no time for slowly trying to disappear into the trees again and there was no way to get around him. Quick as lightning Amorette suddenly turned on her heels and raced back the way she had come. Logically she thought if she ran far enough she would reach a set of palace gates that would be guarded but the man caught up with her only seconds later. He slammed into her from behind and she was flattened upon the earth under his weight. The wind knocked out of her, it took a second for Amorette to think of what to do next. Again she let him think that he had the upper hand by waiting it out. Her ploy worked and she felt the weight on top of her lessen a little as he raised himself a little. Lashing out with her feet, Amorette kicked whatever part of him she could whilst using her hands to pull herself slowly away from him. A swift kick to his face sent him reeling back and Amorette threw herself onto her feet and into a run. Almost colliding with trees as she slipped on the wet leaves, Amorette felt droplets of rain landing on her forehead as the canopy of leaves overhead thinned a little. She was reaching the edge of the trees. Just as a little bubble of relief began to surface it was knocked straight back down. Amorette collided with the ground for a second time.

This time though she had tripped over a tree root or branch of some sort; she couldn't tell which in the dark. She could hear the man's heavy breathing and heavy footsteps behind her somewhere and for the first time she let out a strangled cry for help as she realised she had twisted her ankle. Amorette didn't have time to attempt to put weight on her ankle before she was roughly turned onto her back. The brim of the hat still hid the man's face from view but he was close enough for her to feel his sharp breaths on her face. The raindrops seemed heavier here and Amorette could hear them landing on the man's hat and leather cloak. Not a sound permeated the trees as the man opened his mouth to speak. He never got the chance though. Amorette brought her arm down heavily on top of his head. He gave a small grunt and slid off to lie on the floor beside Amorette. She clutched the heavy stone in her hand tightly, waiting in the silence for him to pounce again but he didn't. Slow breaths told her that he was unconscious. Amorette felt tears spring to her eyes as she dragged herself into a standing position. She limped away as quickly as she could in the full knowledge that her attacker could wake at any moment. Amorette knew that she hadn't hit him very hard but hopefully she had bought herself enough time to get away and find somewhere to hide or someone to help.

The rain grew heavier and heavier until Amorette could no longer tell which droplets were tears and which was rainwater. She knew that was a sign that she was reaching the edge of a trees and she found herself facing an iron fence. Amorette knew her lack of height would prevent her from clambering over it even without a twisted ankle so she let her fingers trial along the spokes of the fence as she hurried along beside it, hoping to eventually come to a gate of some kind. She felt like she followed the fence for an age before she noticed that one of the spokes was severely bent out of place. Stopping to feel around in the dark Amorette realised that there was more than one spoke that was out of place. In fact, there was a gap between them large enough for a tall man to climb through. Was this where her Amorette's attacker had entered the Palace gardens? It was a possible escape route for Amorette but if she was going to use it she needed to move fast. Without the knowledge of just where she was or where this path would lead to, the attacker had an advantage over her. Amorette dived through the gap without much thought and limped her way through yet more trees on the other side of the fence.

Letting out a sob as her ankle twinged painfully, Amorette was forced to stop for a moment and take stock of where she was. Despite the darkness she could now see a well-worn path ahead of her. That path would take her into the city and without any hesitation Amorette took the path, dragging her ankle behind her. Amorette prayed that this carriageway would take her out into the city and towards the lodgings that housed some of her friends but at this late hour she couldn't be sure which door she could come across first. When the trees finally gave way to streets and buildings Amorette still wasn't sure exactly where she was. Judging by the light and the moon overhead, it was the early hours of the morning but some of her friends might not yet be home. Buckingham may still be at the card table, and the musketeers may have taken on night duties.

Ambling round yet another corner Amorette suddenly realised that if she went to the garrison, where she really would feel safe she would have to cross one of the bridges. Instead she turned away from the direction of the river and limped on towards the nearest safe place she knew. By the time Amorette reached the door of Constance and D'artagnan's lodgings she was soaked to the skin and her hair was plastered to her head and face. Banging on the door repeatedly, Amorette began to sob loudly when there was no answer at the door. She turned to stare out into the street behind her, very aware of how vulnerable she was. Stranded in the darkness and the atrocious weather in just her night things, Amorette realised then just how terrible she must look. She turned to bang on the door as hard as she could again once more, even offering it a kick or two of her uninjured leg. The din of her thuds against the oak of the door and her great heaving sobs muffled the sounds of movement behind the door so that when it was opened just a crack, Amorette jumped back in surprise.

It appeared she had surprised the inhabitants of the lodgings too. D'artagnan threw the door open wide when he caught sight of her through the crack. Calling out for Constance, he dragged Amorette over the threshold and she obliged more than willingly, throwing herself into Constance's arms as she reached the bottom of the staircase. Amorette knew it took an age and most of Constance's composure to calm her whilst D'artagnan left to fetch more help. Amorette had begged him not to go and had clung onto the back of his doublet. She feared that her attacker had followed her to her friend's door and knew he wouldn't hesitate to strike a musketeer but Constance prised her hands from the leather and dragged her to the upper floor of their little house. From the upper window the two women watched D'artagnan race off in the direction of the river. They watched until he was out of sight and then Constance somehow managed to coax Amorette into a bedroom where she helped her change out of her wet clothes.

In a borrowed night shirt and wrapped in blankets, Constance began to lead Amorette downstairs. "Come and sit at the fireside and warm yourself up," the seamstress said as she led Amorette through the hallway and kitchen towards their small parlour. Just as they left the kitchen, the light tapping at the door to the rear of the lodgings had both women yelping in fright. They both knew D'artagnan would not have come to that door, and he wouldn't have knocked upon the door of his own home. Amorette's tears were rolling down her cheeks again as she and Constance stood with their arms wrapped tightly around each other. Together they watched the door before them as the light tapping came again. They shared a glance and it was all the confirmation that Constance needed. Amorette knew who stood on the other side of that door, and the fact that the latch was securely fastened didn't give her much hope in that moment.

Amorette let out a startled scream as a hand clamped down on her shoulder. Turning, she was met with the concerned gaze of D'artagnan. Her power of speech failed her then and it was left to Constance to explain the knocking beyond the door. Porthos and Aramis immediately dashed through the door in question in search of the attacker. Constance led Amorette on into the parlour and seated her before the fire. Immediately D'artagnan knelt beside the dying embers to stoke the fire to life again. Another blanket was wrapped around Amorette's shoulders before she could slump back into the chair and Athos' face swam into view in front of her. Swiftly he pressed a tankard into her hands. It was then that Amorette realised that she was shaking uncontrollably as Athos covered her hands with his and pushed the tankard towards her mouth. A sweet, strong brandy slid down Amorette's throat until the tankard was entirely empty. The liquid began to warm her insides almost immediately and the edge of weariness began to creep in as what had occurred in the last hour began to catch up with Amorette.

She knew that she would refuse another serving of brandy even if Athos offered it to her with imploring eyes. He didn't offer her though. Instead he sat back on his knees as Amorette noticed that he was crouched before her. Gently Amorette let her breathing regulate as she stared into the cobalt eyes that offered more comfort than anything ever had in her life before. He kept her gaze caught within his own, seeming to understand that he was the reason that she now felt wholly and completely safe.

Only when Porthos and Aramis returned empty handed and slightly wetter did anyone dare to ask her what had happened. She looked around at them all gathered before her, waiting with baited breath and it was then that she realised she had failed. "I didn't see his face before you all pester me for a description," she wailed.

Porthos shook his head vigorously as he stepped forward into the dim candlelight. "Let's worry about all that at another time. All that matters now is that you're safe Mademoiselle."

"Are you hurt?" Athos asked as he placed his hands on the armrests either side of her.

Amorette started to shake her head before she remembered the twinges of pain in her ankle. "My…my ankle." She almost gasped in surprise when she felt Athos' hand gently grasp her foot and run his thumb over Achilles heel. "It's not…broken…managed to …walk on it…" Amorette stammered as she realised just how cold she had been outside. She moved her injured foot a little and Athos seemed satisfied. He stood and took a few steps back to give her some space and gently began to coax out of her just what had happened.

"How did you know he wasn't a musketeer?" asked Aramis. Amorette had explained how she had seen the silhouette of the musketeer through the trees and run towards him. "Well…at first I thought he was one of you four. I don't know if any of you have realised this at all but you all have this very noticeable way of standing and moving. You walk with pride and obedience. When he turned… when the man moved towards me I knew he was no musketeer. I also realised he wasn't tall enough to be one of you. The only thing I could think of in that moment was to run. I didn't trust anyone else with my safety."

She told them how she had found the gap in the fence and traced her way into the city, growing calmer as she saw a little pride at her resourcefulness in Aramis' face. She shook her head grimly. "I really didn't see his face. I'm sorry! I did think of it but he was on top of me and I thought that to get away was more important in that moment. His hat hid his face very well. He may have been wearing a mask or scarf over his face but I didn't see it."

"That doesn't matter," said D'artagnan from behind her. "As Porthos said, you got yourself to safety. You used your initiative in the moment. Having you alive with no knowledge of who your attacker is, that's better than you seeing his face and dying for it."

Amorette let a shudder ripple through her at D'artagnan's words. "That's enough!" Constance called from the doorway. "Hasn't she been through enough tonight? She needs sleep in a warm bed. You can all plague her with questions tomorrow!"

"We can't drag her back through the streets now," grumbled Porthos.

"She'll stay in our spare room." Constance turned to Amorette then, "If that's alright with you of course?"

The thought crossed Amorette's mind then that if the musketeers ventured out into the streets again in search of her attacker then she wouldn't feel safe anymore. "Not of I've brought trouble to your door Constance," Amorette admitted. "I can't put you in danger like that with him still out there."

Athos shook his head from where he stood. "We're all staying right here. One of us will be outside your room all night. We will take it in turns to watch."

Amorette saw in Athos' eyes that he had seen the relief that flooded her bones as he spoke. "Come on." Constance gently gripped her upper arm to help her out of her chair. "Let's get you to bed and I'll stay with you until you're asleep."

Amorette's hand's gingerly found the armrests of the chair and she put weight on them to raise herself from the chair. Her legs wouldn't oblige though. Amorette slumped back into the seat as her legs failed to take her weight. They wobbled beneath her almost painfully. "I…don't think…I can stand," she mumbled.

Almost instantly Athos moved towards her. "here," he whispered as he slipped one arm behind her back and the other under the crook of her knees. Amorette's stomach lurched as he lifted her into his arms and carried her out towards the staircase.

He had to know that she was staring at him. In his arms her face was so close to his she could examine every hair of the handsome beard that graced his chin. She continued to gaze at him when he reached the staircase and walked the stairs as if he carried no weight. Athos held her as if she was feather-light and deposited her gently onto the bed in a small spare room. He squeezed her shoulder gently and shared an unreadable look with Constance before leaving the room. Amorette let a long sigh escape her as she let herself fall back against the pillows. Feeling safer in the knowledge that four musketeers now sat downstairs, Amorette fell asleep even before Constance pulled a thick blanket over her.

 _ **Still no precious harmonious moment between Amorette and Athos yet because I can't find a way to fit one in with them**_ **pretending** _ **to hate each other so much! There is something just on the horizon though, in the next few chapters! This killer is someone we've met in the story so far, so who do you think it could be? Don't discount anyone, however briefly we have met them!"**_


	20. Chapter 20

_**Thanks for all the lovely reviews, makes it more worthwhile persevering through the next few chapters, which I'm finding quite difficult to write! I have the plot worked out, just can't seem to flesh it out.**_

 _ **So I thought we should find out about those other proposals from Franc, and they are in the form of two flashbacks.**_

 _ **The killer may be revealed in this chapter.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

 _Amorette tried to pull her hand away, a little embarrassed at how Franc dragged her with him towards his parents. She hated the thought of people thinking that there was more between them than there was but Franc was unstoppable. She supposed it may have been partly her fault too. Just two days ago she had clung to Franc's arm as if he was the salt of the earth and laughed at his inane ramblings even though in reality his jokes were terrible and his opinions rather constricted. She put on the most wondrous show she could in order to give the impression that she was having the best time and that she hadn't a care in the world. She had wanted the Comte de la Fère to see her happy radiance from where he stood a few tables away, but he had eyes for her no more than he did for her father. Perhaps Franc had taken those foolish attempts to make Athos jealous a little seriously and now thought he was in with a chance._

 _Franc's parents were exactly as she had expected. The mother was meek and quiet as a mouse whilst the father, although well-spoken was surly and inept. Amorette could think of nothing worse than a family meal with the la Belisle's. In fact, Amorette pitied his mother. Although her face was lined with age there was still a pretty air about her. Perhaps she had once been as lively and fun-loving as Amorette herself before she married her husband. Amorette chastised herself then for thinking so ill of Franc's family. They may have appeared boring and contrite to her but perhaps they were just not her sort of people. On the whole they had been polite and courteous which made thinking so ill of them even worse._

 _Although Amorette liked Franc and thought him sweet she longed for the parties of just one week ago where Buckingham and Henry Fitzgerald caused as much havoc as they could just for the fun of it and where Athos could be found tucked in a corner having a terribly intelligent conversation with his peers. Buckingham was intelligent too, but he was rather too silly most of the time to show it. He liked to wrestle people in the lake, throw food at parties and sneak up on young Mademoiselles in their night things and all of this Amorette found funny because she too was just a child in essence. Buckingham made her feel like herself whereas Athos made her feel like a bereft old spinster still pining after her long lost love. Countless times she had witnessed Athos rolling his eyes at Buckingham's antics but that hadn't changed how she behaved. In truth she rather liked the thought that Athos thought her silly and boisterous because then at least he was thinking of her. When she tried to reach Athos' own wavelength she found that she fell extremely short. She could match him in conversation, wit and manners but nothing of that kind seemed to move him at all._

 _Amorette was finally coming to terms with the fact that moving Athos was something she was not capable of at all. He never admonished her for her behaviour though and that she appreciated. Taller and broader in stature than any of her other friends, Athos cut quite the figure in a room of dandies and fops with his French country way. Amorette often found herself entranced by the intricate conversations she would catch snippets of as she danced past him. He was completely alien to her and yet every day in her mind she secretly thanked her cousin Charles for introducing her to the Comte de la Fère._

 _With both Athos and Buckingham gone along with their respective parties of friends, only Franc remained. Strangely, Franc had been meaning to depart too but just an hour after Buckingham left he decided to extend his stay. Amorette found out why shortly after she was whisked away from his parents for another dance. Dancing with Buckingham or Henry Fitzgerald was as chaotic and humorous as possible with them missing steps on purpose to confuse Amorette, or kicking their shoe off mid-dance so that it hit someone in the face. Dancing with Franc though was another story. He took each dance seriously, informing Amorette of important titbits about the music while they moved. At the end of a rather slow two dances Franc and Amorette escaped to the library. Amorette had no want of staying in the hall too late now that there was no one there to really make her evenings worthwhile and Franc seemed to like the solitude of the library. They spent an hour together in companionable silence searching the shelves for books before settling into adjacent chairs. Amorette was two chapters in to her book before she glanced up and realised that Franc had not even started reading his. Gazing at him over the top of her book, Amorette watched as he fidgeted in his seat and worriedly caught her gaze before looking away sharply._

" _Franc what's wrong? Do you want to go downstairs again? You can leave me here you know, I don't need a babysitter."_

 _Just as Amorette finished speaking Franc launched himself out of his seat and fell at her feet. An incredulous frown grew on Amorette's face as she realised that he hadn't meant to be sprawled at her feet. In fact, he had intended to land resting on one knee. Amorette quickly stood up out of her seat as Franc's hands attempted to clasp her own. Amorette let her book slip out of her hands before pushing her chair backwards with the back of her legs. "Oh goodness Franc please don't!"_

 _He stared up at her imploringly. "Why not? Doesn't it make logical sense to you Mademoiselle?"_

" _No!" Amorette blurted out. She mentally slapped herself for sounding ungrateful and tried to compose herself enough to give Franc the refusal that he deserved. "That sounded awful but what I mean is that we aren't compatible Franc in any way; politically, religiously or romantically."_

" _Our parents think it a good match Amorette!" Franc seemed to think better of staying on bended knee and stood so that he was towering over her as everyone did._

" _Of course they do because on paper we are a good match." Amorette ran her hands through her hair as she tried to figure out what she wanted to say. "Look, sit down and let me explain what I mean." Franc hesitantly returned to his seat but still looked apprehensive. "No doubt my fortune and connections make me a very good match in your parents eyes Franc and they probably think a sweetheart like you is a good match for me. But when you really think about it, we would be shackling ourselves together only to fight each other. I know I'd be required to overhaul my political and religious views if we were to marry and I can't do that Franc. I know you understand that and that you wouldn't want to make me do it but it would be required of me. That's not who I am."_

 _Amorette didn't know what to make of Franc's apparent shock. Had he really expected her to accept his proposal? "Amorette is there someone else? Has someone else romantic intentions towards you? If they do, I'd have you tell me."_

 _Amorette shook her head sadly. Whilst it was true that she did harbour deep feelings for Athos, those feelings were not reciprocated. Athos had no romantic intentions towards her at all and never would have. "There's no one Franc," she replied. "Please understand that I am incredibly flattered that you would choose to ask me and I do appreciate what it has taken for you to do so…"_

" _But it's just not enough is it?" Franc sighed and ran his hands through his blond hair. He shook his head, defeat clear on his features. He moved to walk past her with his head down but he stopped and touched her shoulder gently. "I won't say I'm okay about this. In fact I'm sorely disappointed and my parents will be too. Give me some time to come to terms with it. I had felt sure that you would accept Mademoiselle. You should also know that your father encouraged the match too. In fact, I think it was he who first sewed the seed of thought in my head."_

 _With that, Franc was gone from the room and Amorette sank back into her chair with her shaking hand over her mouth. The library was always such a haven for her but now it would always be tainted with the memory of what had just passed. She hoped she hadn't ruined the friendship forever, but in her heart she knew that she could never have accepted Franc's proposal._

That memory was always a painful one for Amorette. She'd woken not long after she had fallen asleep in Constance's spare room and she lay on her side, staring at the wall. Amorette had always felt bad about refusing Franc because she knew she had hurt him, but she would have done it over and over again. It was the right thing to do, or so she kept telling herself. She rolled over onto her other side and her gentle breaths almost stopped. There staring back into her own eyes were cobalt blue ones. Athos sat in a chair by the window, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight.

For a long while they both just stared at each other as dawn crept gradually into the room. Amorette always struggled to read his vacant expression and with half of it in shade it was made even worse. His piercing gaze was still able to unnerve her after all these years and Amorette felt herself squirming under the woollen blanket. The uneasy silence crept on and suddenly she needed to fill it with something, anything to make the air less stifling. "I thought he was you, you know; the man in the forest. I've never been more relieved in my life than I was in that moment." Amorette hesitated as he continued to stare at her. Anyone else might have thought that he wasn't listening to her, but Amorette knew that he had heard every word. "That's what he wanted wasn't it? That feeling of relief and safety, he gets off on it doesn't he? And I almost gave it to him."

Athos nodded from where he sat but when he saw the sorrowful look on her face he moved swiftly from the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. "What D'artagnan said was right. You got yourself away by using your own initiative. You were smart enough to deduce that what you first thought you saw was an illusion created by this man to entrap you and you acted upon it. He clearly knows you well enough to understand that a musketeer's uniform is a symbol of security to you. His intention was to manipulate your mind. You didn't let him. You should be proud of that."

For a few moments Amorette pondered what Athos had said, but a new thought was beginning to niggle away in her brain. "So what happens now Athos? Either he gives up entirely and crawls into some hole never to be found or…"

"Or he comes after you again," Athos finished for her.

"I've angered him by getting away, by outsmarting him. Is that what you mean?" Amorette thought she saw Athos' eyes flicker a little in recognition of her question.

"Yes. But that makes his actions rash and unpredictable. He was following somewhat of a pattern beforehand. If he comes after you he will be breaking that pattern, a pattern you broke for him. Tomorrow we will need to go over everything that's happened with a fresh perspective and decipher his clues because I'm sure he has left them on purpose for just such an instance. I think he knew there was potential for his plan to go wrong, so he wants you to go to him in the end. That won't happen though. The four of us won't leave your side until this is all over; you have my word on that."

Amorette felt warmth begin to grow in her chest. She smiled gently at him and reached for his hand which lay on the corner of the blanket. "I'm sorry I've been a sour faced cow to you recently Athos but you haven't exactly helped matters. Why can't you be like this all the time; like how we were years ago? I'm no different really on the inside. But I guess you have to see that for yourself."

For just a moment, Amorette thought she saw something remarkable in his eyes. There was just the slightest hint of a flicker of emotion. Amorette felt her heart in her mouth as she recalled the glassy eyed young man she had introduced to her sister all those years ago. She thought for just a split second that he had looked at her the way he once looked at Ann. It was all that Amorette had ever wanted in her life but she felt strangely disconnected to that desire now. Did she really want him to look at her the way he once looked at her sister? He may have loved Ann, but that didn't matter. She and Ann were different people altogether and that was what did matter.

The moment was gone when Athos slipped his hand from her grip. He patted her hand gently and with a "Get some sleep," he crept back to his chair and turned it slightly so he was gazing out into the street below the window.

Amorette woke to the sound of a whispered argument outside the door. Rolling over in bed she found the chair by the window empty. She was a little disappointed that Athos was no longer there. He wasn't far away though.

"Time is of the essence Madam D'artagnan!" she heard him whisper from beyond the door.

Constance's tart reply told Amorette all that she needed to know about the disagreement. "Athos you will not wake her! I don't care how late it is. Let her wake from sleep naturally! Last time she woke she was out in the elements with a crazed murderer only feet away so I think she deserves that much at least!" Amorette couldn't help smiling to herself as she imagined Constance guarding the door to her room with a tenacity that would have rivalled Milady De Winter.

The whispering continued and Amorette put them both out of their misery by calling out to them that she was awake. At once the door snapped open and Constance smiled warmly but a little guiltily at her. "He woke you didn't he?" Constance said as she threw a chastising look out into the hallway before closing the door. "If you need some more time Amorette, I can hold them off. I don't mind." Amorette shook her head and swung her legs out of the bed. She looked down at her injured ankle and the purple bruise that greatly contrasted her alabaster skin. Constance fetched an old set of stockings and began to wrap them around her ankle tightly. "There, that should brace it a little." Constance dressed Amorette in an old dress of hers, and chuckled as the hem dragged along the floor. The boots were also too big but Amorette didn't argue. Her ankle felt much better wrapped in the old stockings and braced with the soft leather of the boot.

When she and Constance made their way downstairs Amorette was handed a rather worn old cloak and she threw her host a puzzled look. Surely her coat she had worn last night would be dry enough by now. Constance gave a sympathetic grimace and nodded in the direction of the kitchen. When Amorette entered, she found Porthos, Aramis and Athos sitting at the long table, whilst D'artagnan sat in a chair closer to the fire. They all looked up when she entered the room and the conversation halted immediately. Amorette felt her face burn a deep shade of puce and muttered, "Well, don't all stop on my account."

There was nothing worse than walking into a room where the inhabitants had been talking about you only seconds before. The silence bore on as Amorette took the last remaining seat at the table and Constance bustled about, making a clatter with pots and pans. There were empty plates strewn all over the table, with small chunks of bread and cheese remaining on some. Constance placed another plate of food in front of Amorette and whilst the portion was small, Amorette was entirely sure that she wouldn't be able to stomach the food. She was glad though when no one tried to force her. She had expected more resistance.

At length conversation broke out again and Amorette was forced to relive what had happened the night before all over again. She didn't feel like she told her story any differently than she the night before but she understood that her mind had been addled and the musketeers needed to make sure that they had all the information that she could recall. When she had finished Aramis asked, "But do you have any memory of where you went before you found yourself in the Jardin des Tuileries Mademoiselle?" Amorette shook her head, a frown present on her face. "You were gone for some hours you know. I was on duty outside your door last night and I decided to check on you shortly after midnight. You were gone from the room when I entered, and you may have been gone for hours before it."

Amorette felt bewilderment creeping upon her again. "I have no idea. The last thing I remember is falling asleep. You think I was elsewhere before the gardens?"

Aramis nodded stiffly. "There were musketeer patrols just an hour before you were found that searched those gardens. They would have found you and your attacker."

"What about the uniform he wore?" Amorette asked. "Do you know who he stole it from?"

Athos sighed heavily from her right. "We do not think he stole it from a dressed musketeer. We believe it was taken during the progress. Extra uniforms were taken with the regiment so that wherever we went, we should look our finest. Uniforms always go missing on outings such as the progress so it would have been overlooked."

"What Athos means," D'artagnan called from across the room, "Is that we think this was all carefully planned out."

Amorette shuddered as she thought of someone actively seeking a musketeer uniform just to lure her in. That someone knew the inner workings of her heart. They had to know of her feelings for Athos and of her trust of his friends. She raised her eyes to meet Athos' knowing look. "So all of this means that I know this person?"

Athos nodded. "You need to think carefully about anyone who may have motive not only to attack you but to target other women as well. There must be a common connection."

Amorette rubbed her forehead with her hand. She stared down at the plate of food as she almost pulled her brain apart in search of the answers. At length she exasperatedly shook her head and brought her hands up to cover her eyes. Breathing deeply, Amorette tried to go over the past evenings events in her mind. She dwelt on what she had eaten, and the book that she had read before she had taken a bath. Her head jerked up sharply. "We all took a bath!" When everyone in the room continued to look at her blankly Amorette knew that she had stumbled across something important. "Karlotta de la Roche died in her bath, and in Honoré St Clair's room there was water all over the floor. She'd just taken a bath before she left her room. My guess is that Odette la Tremoille also took a bath; and no that isn't a metaphor for her drowning in the Seine before you ask!"

"How does it factor in?" Porthos asked from the opposite side of the table. They were all staring at her curiously, waiting to catch the crucial element.

"I knew there was something strange about that bottle of bath oil!" Amorette cried. "In Karlotta's room; she didn't get out of the bath to place that bath oil so far away. Someone else moved it after she died and I'm willing to bet it wasn't those maids. There was something in the bath oils. We were all drugged. Karlotta took a reaction to the drug, not the bath oil!"

"We should talk to the maids then, see if they saw someone else coming or going from the room," nodded Porthos. There seemed a new energy round the table, as if they now had something to work towards.

"Where did you buy your bath oils Cometess?" Athos asked shrewdly.

"I didn't," she replied. "They were a gift from…" Amorette hesitated as she realised just who had bought her the gift. Surely it didn't mean anything though. "Franc la Belisle bought me the bath oils."

Aramis seemed to sense her distress about having to throw her friend's name into the mixture. "That means nothing though. It's simple enough to tamper with bath oils. It's not as if they would be securely locked away is it? Anyone who has entered your room could have been responsible."

"That factors in quite a few ladies from court, some palace servants, all of you and the Queen herself," Amorette muttered. "Oh it's useless! It's no help at all is it?" Amorette slammed her hands down onto the table in a huff, distressed that her new lead was really nothing at all.

"It's a start!" whispered Athos as he covered her small pale hands with his far larger one. "There is also the question of how you left your room?" His eyebrow quirked and Amorette knew that Athos knew more than he was willing to let on. In fact, Amorette would have wagered that they all knew but without her own admittance they weren't going to be the ones to spill the secret.

"I don't remember leaving the room," Amorette sighed. "But there is a way to leave unnoticed. There's a linen cupboard towards the rear of my bedchamber and there's a secret door. But then all of you already know that." Aramis nodded and it was confirmed. They did know after all. "That door when open leads to a small passageway between my room and the Queen's which you know. It was used when she and Buckingham shared their little tryst. The door is always locked from the other side though."

"And the Queen was in her own rooms, she'd have seen something." D'artagnan added.

"That's not all though." Amorette suddenly had the sneaking suspicion she was about to break someone's trust. The musketeers knew about the passageway to the Queen's rooms but did they know about the other door that led to an underground tunnel? "There's another hidden door in that closet. There's a tunnel that runs below the palace. It's an escape route in case of attack. If the Palace is ever taken then the Queen may whisk herself away through the tunnel and surface in the middle of Paris. It's not widely known because if musketeers came running to ensure the Queen used it in a time of need, her escape may prevented."

All four men turned to gaze at each other in astonishment. Amorette knew they were going to question how she knew about such a tunnel when four of the finest musketeers had no knowledge of it. How was she going to explain it away? "How did you come to know about it?" Athos queried as he gazed at her with curious eyes.

"I…The Queen, she told me about it. We were walking in the gardens one day when she blurted it all out in a hurried whisper. Said if anything was ever to happen and I was sure that I wouldn't be followed that I should use the tunnel to get out. I think she didn't like the thought of me being on the other side of that door and not being aware that there was a way out if I needed it." Amorette thought that all but Athos bought her lie. He still stared at her intently as if he was attempting to read the workings of her mind. When she determinedly didn't look away from his scrutiny he faltered and turned his attention upon something else.

Amorette discovered why she was wearing Constance's old things when the musketeers explained that they weren't taking her back to the Louvre immediately. They wanted to try to jog her memory a little by walking through the city and to do so in her own clothes would only draw attention. Amorette complied because she had no other choice. Her best hope in all of this was the musketeers.

They left D'artagnan and Constance's home quietly a short while later. Amorette walked slowly even though her ankle felt more braced than it had the night before. Walking along the narrow streets, she fell into step beside Aramis. "You know, it did cross my mind that you might have been drugged last night but after what you'd been though and with you so cold and wet I pushed the thought aside." Aramis looked apologetically at her. "I'm sorry; I could have fetched something to help you sleep better if I'd only given it more consideration."

Amorette linked arms with the marksman and smiled warmly at him. "Aramis don't worry. I didn't even know it myself last night. I don't think anything was clear at all then."

They walked in companionable silence as up ahead Athos and D'artagnan conversed together. Porthos trailed behind them, alert and in watch of followers. At length the narrow and respectable streets gave way to the more opulent and wider of the Marais and the simple actions of the musketeers was enough to heighten Amorette's apprehension. Clearly, Athos had thought that they were safe from harm in Les Halles but the Marais was a different story. As soon as they reached the Place Du châtalet his demeanour changed considerably. Amorette still held onto Aramis' arm but Athos fell back into line with them to flank her other side. Not content to just walk beside her, he threw an arm around her and gripped her shoulder tightly and with his other hand he held her upper arm.

"Is this really necessary?" Amorette chocked out. Athos simply gave her a withering look and carried on walking. She noted their formation, D'artagnan still in front with Porthos bringing up the rear and Aramis on her other side with one hand on the butt of his pistol. She knew they were readying themselves for an attack and that Athos was poised to drag her away to safety should anything happen. Their careful behaviour didn't fill Amorette with confidence at all. Surely in the more respectable part of the city they were safer.

Amorette didn't exactly know what the musketeers were waiting for. Nothing seemed to be jogging her memory at all and her ankle was beginning to twinge painfully again. They walked street after endless street, even going back on themselves a few times before Amorette knew that it truly was pointless. They passed Place Royale and carried on towards the Rue des Minimes but when they reached the street corner Amorette stopped. Buckingham's lodgings were just visible from where she stood and Amorette had the strangest feeling that she needed to venture inside the building.

"I was here last night," she muttered and as soon as the words left her mouth she knew that they were true. Slowly they moved in the direction of the lodgings. Amorette recalled then that it was not yet luncheon and Buckingham would most likely still be playing cards somewhere from last night. The lodgings would be completely shut up. It was a shock therefore to find the door slightly ajar. As Amorette had expected, she was not permitted to enter until D'artagnan and Aramis had searched throughout the lodgings and confirmed that it was indeed empty. When she finally did enter, it was to find the lodgings in slight disarray, but it was far better than she had expected. There were bits and pieces that she had taken upon herself to tidy whilst she had been staying there but when she had moved into the rooms at the palace those particular chores seemed to have fallen by the wayside. On the whole though not much had changed and Amorette was slightly surprised.

Buckingham clearly still hadn't returned from his night of revelry but Amorette somehow knew that she had been within these rooms the night before. She couldn't place a specific memory but there was the faintest hint of a lavender scent hanging in the air. She had been here after she had fallen asleep in her bath, but why? Why would her attacker have brought her here of all places. Was there really someone that she knew personally who was capable of all of this? Aside from the four men who stood around her now and Buckingham when she really considered it, she didn't have the real measure of anyone else so well as to know they couldn't be responsible.

The large parlour of the lodgings was cold, Amorette noted. Whoever was here with her the evening before hadn't bothered to relight the fires. It had been raining heavily through the night but there were no muddy footprints so they had at least made an effort to clean the floors before they left. When Amorette approached the room that had been her bedchamber she didn't know what to expect. When the door swung gently open she found it much the same as she had left it. There were a few odd pieces of clothing that she had left behind in the drawers by mistake but they were folded neatly on top of the dresser, and there was a fur stole that hadn't had much use in the slightly warmer weather of recent weeks. The bed sheets had been stripped completely and the shutters thrown wide to air the room. Also sitting on the dresser was a book that she had forgotten about. She remembered searching high and low for the book weeks ago and even accused Buckingham of stealing it. She knew that in reality, one of Buckingham's boisterous parties had probably led to its disappearance. Some reveller would have stumbled across her room and snatched the book before she had even had the chance to read it herself. It was a book of poems by Fabien Desrosiers that Amorette had searched the Paris booksellers high and low for on the word of her English friends. The poet was printing rather scandalous stuff that had been banned in England, so of course every family there had procured one. France was a little more liberal towards the man it seemed and Amorette had noticed more than one young woman with their nose in one of his poetry collections. His romantic love poems were among the most popular but Amorette hadn't seen the proof for herself. She approached the book that sat in the middle of the dresser but she was almost afraid to touch it. It was placed so poignantly that Amorette was certain that it was meant to catch her eye. Amorette gingerly touched the cover with her fingertips for a second before she could pluck up the courage take it into her hand. When she did lift it, she immediately noticed that there was something wedged into the middle of the book.

Amorette sucked in a sharp breath and felt her chest constrict a little in the alien clothing. Whilst Constance's stays fitted her well enough around the waist they weren't comfortable in the least around the bust. Amorette was grateful for the cloak because it hid a multitude of sins. Whilst it was customary for women to show a little or sometimes a generous amount of cleavage the amount that Amorette was forced to bestow in someone else's corset was ludicrous. She was glad they had walked at a gentle pace for if she had cause for running, she wasn't sure that her breasts would stay within the confines of the corset. Pushed so high on her chest, Amorette felt that if she lowered her head any more her chin would be buried between her breasts.

Her heavy breathing in that moment did nothing to assail her fears of her breasts escaping the corset. She heard footsteps in the doorway and turned swiftly to find Athos watching her intently. She held up the book to him, sure of what she would find when she let it fall open. He nodded to say that he was watching and Amorette laid the spine in the middle of her palm and let the book fall open. There was no sketch to be found this time. Instead she was greeted by a real Tarot card bearing _The Hanged Man_. She didn't need to hold the card up to show Athos what she had found. He saw the reaction in her face.

"This is a message of some kind, clearly," Athos announced to the group as they took seats in the parlour. When Amorette stared at him blankly Athos grew impatient and annoyed. "Do you not see Mademoiselle that this card marks the end of the pattern?" Amorette shook her head as she failed to understand. "All of the other women were given sketches as were you, but now you've been given the real thing."

Amorette pondered what he said as she watched him twirl the card between two fingers. "So by getting away from him once, I've made myself even more of a target? But didn't we think that might be the case already?"

"He's made you his ultimate," muttered Aramis from behind her. She turned in her seat to look at the marksman. "He wants you for a reason. This is not random or because you have fortune and influence. He knows you."

Amorette frowned as she reached out a hand for the card. Athos handed back to her and moved to sit opposite her. She stared at the design on the back for a moment but she didn't know why, there was nothing there to tell her anything. She was really just trying to put off the inevitable. She slowly let her thoughts flow to where Athos wanted them to. He thought that she knew deep down in her subconscious just who was doing all of this and that she would stumble upon it at any minute. "Athos I cannot tell you who this man is any more than I can tell you where I was last night."

Athos was swiftly losing patience with her, that she could tell. He removed his hat from his head and ran a hand through his hair roughly. "There must be something Mademoiselle, anything! Just think again." Amorette did think; she thought they must have sat there for at least an hour in silence. They all got up to pace the room at points to ease their stiffened limbs. They had all had a disrupted sleep the night before and lack of action was beginning to bother them all. Amorette was standing at the window when Athos finally spoke again. "Mademoiselle we are wasting time here! If there's something important I need you to tell us now. Let's run through last night's events again shall we?"

Amorette turned to him and shook her head but made no reply. There was nothing new for her to voice. She moved to stand behind one of the couches and leaned against the back of it. "Can I go back to my rooms yet?" she chanced to ask.

"Back to the very room he took you from? When we still have not a clear picture of what we are dealing with here?" Athos cried. "He'll come for you again Amorette and if we do not figure this out soon he might just get you!"

Amorette's patience snapped as tiredness won out. "What do you want me to do Athos? Draw you a map from my head of where I was last night when I was completely and utterly unconscious? I'm not being deliberately obtuse you know!" Amorette gripped the back of the couch so hard that one of her nails poked a hole in the fabric.

"So you took a bath? At what time? Had anyone at all told you they would call to see you last night?" Athos pestered while Amorette grew more frustrated.

She turned to D'artagnan who now stood beside her and muttered, "This is ridiculous!" Tired tears pricked her eyes and Amorette turned on her heel and limped from the room. She didn't know how she managed to make it down the stairs and out into the street but she did.

The hustle and bustle of midday in the Les Halles market was strangely soothing for Amorette. Pushing through the throngs of people walking in every direction she found it refreshing to just concentrate on not walking into people and not dwell upon other matters. She didn't know how long it was that she sat on the banks of the Seine watching the world go by before a voice called her name from a distance. Turning, she found that the owner of said voice was not who she had expected to see. Franc la Belisle was rushing towards her along the quay. "Are you alright?" he gasped out as he finally reached her. "I heard about what happened last night! Have you even told anyone that you're alive and well? I'm pretty sure there are still search parties out looking for you!"

Amorette considered what Franc said. Clearly Athos and his friends hadn't reported that they had found her in the hopes that the attacker would think she was still roaming the streets and come out in search of her. "I'm alright Franc, Athos has seen me."

Turning back to gaze out at the docks below her, Amorette was surprised to feel Franc's hand on her shoulder. "Come Mademoiselle, let's get you home then."

Amorette gently pulled her shoulder out of Franc's grip. "If it's all the same Franc I'd quite like to stay here and watch the goings on for a bit. It's strangely calming after the last few days."

Franc sat down beside her on the bank and they shared a companionable silence for a while before Franc could no longer hide his curiosity then. "Mademoiselle, where is Athos? I thought if he had found you after what had happened he would be sure to keep you in his sights."

"I might have given him the slip," chortled Amorette. She turned to Franc and shared a grin with him.

Below them along the docks sailors moved back and forth along the gangplanks as they loaded and unloaded goods from the ships docked there. Some of them even whistled and sang along to their own little tunes while they worked. Behind them the packed streets that led to the market square were lined with stalls selling all sorts of wares. Every so often a messenger boy would tear out of one of the streets towards the docks and return to one of the stalls a few moments later with a large crate or bundle.

Franc fidgeted uneasily beside her and Amorette was sure that he felt uncomfortable being out in the open with her when she had a target pinned to her head. She sighed heavily and said "You can go if you wish Franc. I don't mind my own company. Actually it's rather soothing to me at the moment."

He turned to her in astonishment. "Do you really think I'd leave you Mademoiselle Amorette? After whatever it was that happened to you last night. You do look terrible you know! Perhaps you should tell me what happened, so that I know what I am to look out for?"

Amorette inwardly winced as the idea of reliving the past evenings events yet again almost turned her stomach. Franc had a point though. Sitting alongside her on the quay he was a target himself just for being with her. So she told him about waking up surrounded by those trees alone in the dark. When Amorette told him about the man who had attacked her, he seemed to listen with a strange sort of relish. Why was it that men found stories like that exhilarating rather than frightening? Amorette felt too ashamed though to tell him of how she had thought the man had been a musketeer and in particular Athos at first and omitted that fact from her tale. She told him about escaping through the break in the fence and finding her way to Constance and D'artagnan.

"Where you very frightened Mademoiselle?" Franc asked.

He stared at her with prying eyes and Amorette felt that suddenly she didn't want to tell him anything more. "I got myself to safety. That's all that matters Franc. I'm over the fear of it all now; I just want to help Athos catch the man before he hurts anyone else." She dipped her hand into the pocket of Constance's old skirts and clutched the Tarot card that she had found in her poetry book.

"Well, this musketeer; I know you said you did not see his face but did he say anything to you? Anything that might allude to his identity." Those prying eyes were growing impatient for more information.

Amorette opened her mouth to answer him when she realised the mistake he had made. Her jaw dropped as she stared at the young man she had known for many years and suddenly it was all so clear. "Franc…I never mentioned anything about a musketeer!"

 _ **So how does Franc know about the musketeer if Amorette didn't tell him?**_


	21. Chapter 21

_**I found this chapter really hard to write. I didn't realise how many loose ends I had created for myself to knot together!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

 _When Franc surprised Amorette in the little village near her house in Provins, she wasn't sure what to make of the visit. At first she was wary of his intentions but he seemed jovial and friendly. She invited him back to her home to dine as was customary and he gratefully obliged, taking her basket from her and carrying it himself as they meandered their way out into the country. Franc was greatly changed, that much was clear. He was no longer inept and helplessly sweet. Amorette suspected that one or two women had crossed his path and hardened his resolve a bit._

 _He was much broader in stature than she remembered and held himself like a man should. The blond shock of hair was still there but it was swept back behind one ear and there seemed so much life about him. Amorette was glad to see such a change in her old friend. Amorette had always worried for his sensibility after she refused him a few years ago but there was little chance of him still suffering over it. No, he was worldly now with a different outlook on life altogether. Amorette was sure he had set his sights on someone far prettier and grander than herself._

 _They passed the evening contentedly by sharing a meal and stories. They played cards after a while and Amorette could see an improvement in his skills there too. He had probably accompanied Buckingham on one of his many trips around Christendom and had his eyes opened. As a young boy Franc was always left behind when Buckingham and his friends went off on their excursions but now Franc was able to tell her tales of all of their exploits because he had been thoroughly involved. Amorette was pleased for him. Strangely, she thought him a far better catch now. He was not so much a repetitive product of his father's upbringing. There were still the odd topic of politics or religion that would still cause confusion or boredom but on the whole Franc was more tolerable now._

 _When the time came for Franc to leave he said his amiable goodbyes and marched in the direction of her stables. Amorette released a breath she didn't know she had been holding and turned away from the front door. The next time the two might happen upon each other, chances were that Franc would be married and would no longer have any romantic interests towards her. She still saw a little glint in his eyes that had her feeling wary but he seemed to have been better schooled to control such urges._

 _Just as she placed a foot on the bottom stair the door swung open again with a gentle thud. Franc rushed towards her, paid no heed to her protests and grabbed one of her hands in his. Dropping to one knee he gazed up at her intently. "Tell me Cometess, what is it I am to do to secure your love and I will readily do it?"_

 _Amorette tried to pull her hand out of his but he held fast, his worry of her imminent refusal very visible. "Franc we discussed this once before and my feelings have not changed. I am flattered that you should choose to ask me once, but twice? I do appreciate the admiration you have shown me but really? Did you expect me to accept this time when nothing has changed between us?"_

 _Franc still held on tightly to Amorette's hand and she gave up trying to fight his grip. The first time he had asked, he had looked downright disappointed and ashamed when she had refused him but now he looked incensed. He tightened his grip on her hand slightly and pulled her behind him into the parlour. Closing the door behind them, he finally let go of her hand. "Mademoiselle is this some kind of trick? Are you and your father laughing at me behind my back? He tells me repeatedly that you and I should be wed and that I should endeavour to win your favour. Then when I come to you and bare my soul you could not refuse my offer any quicker!"_

 _Amorette turned away from Franc as she felt her patience for her old friend diminish slightly. "Franc I have no contact with my father. He wishes for me to marry someone of his choosing because then my money and lands would be in his control. Don't you see what he's doing? I will not do you the discredit of saying that you wish to marry me only for my money but if that were the case you would not see a penny of it anyway because my father would find a way to wheedle it out of you!"_

 _Franc seemed confused as he leaned against the back of the couch. "So you won't marry me because you don't like the fact that I have connections to your father? What a lame excuse if I may say so Mademoiselle! I don't give a damn about your relationship with your father because this is about you and me!" With that he quickly stood to his full height and took a few steps forward but Amorette raised both hands, ready to push him away. He stopped when he saw her stance and seemed to recover himself._

" _Yes Franc that is my lame excuse. It's all I have and it will have to be enough. I don't believe a woman need offer a man any more than her disinterest as a valid reason for refusing his proposal but I have given far more than that! In the event of marrying someone I would need to trust that man implicitly with my money and lands. Whilst I do not believe that you would deliberately give over my assets to my father I do believe that he would have ways of manipulating you into doing so. I've no more to say on the matter Franc! If you wish to remain a friend of mine I implore you to leave my home now. If you don't, I shall have to call the local magistrate to forcibly remove you and I think that really would tarnish our companionship forever don't you?"_

 _Amorette threw open the door and stood with her hands upon her hips. Her chest heaved as she tried to fight the anger boiling within her. She knew by the look on Franc's face that he was going to admit defeat. Without a goodbye or even a glance he left the room and a few seconds later Amorette heard the front door slam ominously. She let herself sink into a nearby chair as she started to cry._

"Yes you did!" Franc cried. "Just then. You said that your attacker wore a musketeer's uniform."

Amorette knew that her mind was all over the place, but the fact about the musketeer's uniform was something that she had deliberately chosen not to voice to Franc, so how did he know about it? Amorette tried to shuffle away from him along the narrow stone wall she was sitting on but he grabbed her upper arm in a vice like grip. Amorette tried yet again to jerk away but it was no use. She slowly brought her eyes up to meet Franc's and what she saw there had her recoiling in fear. There was only one thing for it, and Amorette couldn't help the question that sprang to her lips in that moment. "Franc those bath oils that you gave me as a gift for my birthday, did you put something in it?" He didn't answer the question. Instead a small wicked smile started to grow upon his face until it reached his eyes. "Oh god Franc what have you done?"

A group of sailors were disembarking their ship for the last time. They crossed the gangplank and began to swarm around their little spot on the Quay. Franc roughly pulled Amorette to her feet and dragged her along with him into one of the bustling streets. Amorette didn't care how much it was going to hurt her arm to pull away from Franc because once she did; it would be ever so simple to loose herself in the crowds. She jogged along beside him for a few moments as she tried to keep up and saw her chance when a cart came rattling down the cobbled street in the other direction. Amorette yanked her arm free and dived towards the other side of the street just as the cart passed. Amorette had underestimated Franc's reactions massively. He dived after her and caught her arm again. This time Amorette knew there would be no escape as she felt the barrel of a pistol pressing into the small of her back. "I have more than one shot with me Cometess. Rest assured if you attempt to distance yourself from me again you will not be the only wounded party today."

Amorette shuddered as his breath tickled the back of her neck. She glanced around her at the haphazard market stalls and their patrons. A gaggle of young grisettes were laughing euphorically just ahead of them and a mother walked hand in hand with her little son. Amorette didn't move an inch. She simply waited until Franc realised that they were blocking the street and pushed her forward. They walked out into the main market square where everyone was too preoccupied to notice her frightened face. Sick of being prodded and pushed Amorette halted where she stood and turned back to look at Franc before he could walk into her. "Franc shouldn't we go somewhere quiet and talk?" she asked as people swarmed around them.

"What, so that you can run from me as soon as you get the chance? I don't think so!" Franc pulled her behind a nearby stall so that they weren't being jostled by people but made sure that he was still able to survey the nearby area carefully.

"Franc won't you tell me what all of this is about?" Amorette attempted to calm her voice as she spoke but really she was searching the streets before her for anyone that she knew. Although Franc still stood behind her she could feel the reluctance to talk radiating from him. Amorette knew it wasn't perhaps her smartest of moves but she found herself turning ever so slowly to face him. Gently she placed her hand upon his pistol and pushed it down. He obliged as he brought his eyes to meet hers and Amorette thought she might just be in with a chance of stopping all of this if she just listened to what he had to say.

"What is it always about?" He shrugged and his sarcastic tone grew more enhanced. "They say that cleanliness is next to Godliness and I happen to believe that is true. Did you really think I would stand back and watch as you flaunted yourself around those musketeers, the English Ambassador and even the Duke of Buckingham? The impurities of women like you need to be stamped out and prevented from developing again!" Amorette was starting to lose understanding of the conversation now. They were standing so closely together that Amorette's head was almost resting on Franc's shoulder. That was the one single reason that she glimpsed the musketeer standing right behind them. D'artagnan swiftly pressed a lone finger to his lips and Amorette wasn't foolish enough to do anything other than play along. Worried about the musketeer jumping into the path of Franc's gun she quickly glanced down towards the pistol and back up at Franc. She hoped D'artagnan caught the motion.

"Explain it to me Franc. Help me understand all of this. Tell me why you killed those women?" Amorette knew her best option was to keep Franc talking until D'artagnan thought of something. He was slowly retreating from where they stood now but Amorette forced herself to look away from him. She had to keep focused on Franc and hope that he didn't do anything Rash. Turning them around a little so that neither of them had D'artagnan in their eye line Amorette gently gripped Franc's arm. She forced down the urge to run as far away as she could from him and tried to keep her voice gentle and steady. "You think that those women were unclean Franc? Why?"

Franc glanced down at her hand that was gently gripping his arm and back up at her. For a few seconds he seemed to be weighing up their options before he sighed. "Unclean, impure, promiscuous and dangerous. I watch you all you know, flirting and scheming to lure men to your beds as if you were in a field picking daisies! One by one I had to warn them, but still they carried on. Odette and Karlotta were on their way to meet their suitor when they met their deaths. They did not heed the warnings of the Tarot drawings and they paid for it with their lives."

The words washed over Amorette like scalding hot water. Somehow Franc knew about the Queen's liaison with Aramis. Why else would she have received one of those sketches? Then her mind fell upon Buckingham and she realised that even if now was certainly not the right time, she had to defend her own sex. Perhaps if she had known about the four musketeers and their captain standing just a few feet away she would have kept her thoughts to herself, but something within Franc's countenance told Amorette that he didn't want to let her out of this alive. "I understand what you are trying to tell me Franc. But there is something that I wish for you to think of before we go any further. We both know a man who encourages such behaviour in women, creates it almost. Buckingham is a scoundrel of the highest calibre who shares his bed with a different woman every night! I should know; I've been lodging with him for a number of months now. Perhaps you should think on the fact that most women do not start out that way. They fall in love and then they are mistreated by the one they love. It begins a downward spiral into searching again for the same kind of love elsewhere. We've all loved someone who didn't love us back Franc! I'm sorry but I'm going to have to sorely disagree with you. A woman who makes her own choices in regards to her love and happiness is not unclean or impure. As long as she is fully aware of the world around her, she is only strong and decisive. Actually I think those women were to be applauded for being politically outspoken and for using their bodies as they wished to."

The barrel of the pistol pressed into her stomach this time. In Franc's eyes she saw anger now and knew that what she had said would never have talked him out of his evil thoughts. "Is that why you kissed Athos' friend? He wouldn't love you back so you used his friend?"

Franc had seen the kiss that she and Aramis had shared all those weeks ago in Chartres when he had come to meet them and Amorette found that she wasn't overly surprised. "Aramis is my friend Franc, as you are. We've both been left rather bereft of love and we thought it made sense to try. We get along well, so I suppose we needed to see if there was that spark. There wasn't though. But that doesn't make him or me a bad person. Athos has no claim over me and nor I over him. Why may I not kiss his friend if said friend is also willing. I may do as I wish because I am a free being who independently exerts her own will. I am not a dog or a mule to be chained and mistreated. I view all women the same way I view myself Franc."

She watched Franc's nostrils flare. "You tried with Aramis who you call friend but you would not try with me! I have always been there, offering myself to you as the best of matches. Three times now I have opened my heart to you and have received only scorn or degradation in return. Do you know how humiliating it is for a man to be refused by his chosen? Whilst you may think you are empowered and independent, really you are only living out the fantasies of a teenage girl who reads too many darn romance novels and poetry. You think it makes you attractive, to be so sure of your own feelings but in doing so you damage the reputation of the men around you! Besides, it all amounted to nothing for you anyway. Everyone has seen you follow Athos around as if he somehow holds the key to eternal life. He never will give you the love that you desire, and he doesn't deserve the affection and high regard you hold him in!"

The penny dropped. Amorette felt the lioness inside her chest lift her head and begin to roar. "That's what this is all about isn't it? I wouldn't marry you and you're upset about it. all of those other women, every single one who received one of those sketches had spurned or rejected you in some way or other! The bath oils were all gifts from you to us all and we never saw it coming! My guess is Buckingham threw you into their paths in an attempt to help you and somehow you have become this monster!"

Franc's hand clenched around Amorette's throat firmly. "I'm no monster! It is you Amorette who is the monster!

All at once Amorette saw movement out of the corner of her eyes and a hat that was all too familiar floated into view. She couldn't shake the thought that she had made the same mistake the night before though and was ashamed that she had foolishly made the same mistake again. In her moments of need she ultimately wanted Athos near and her sub-conscious mind was trying to trick her into seeing him. "You knew that I would think that you were Athos last night. It was all planned wasn't it! Were you planning it all from the moment you came back to Paris? You stole my book of poetry months ago from Buckingham's rooms and you slipped through those tunnels last night and into my room to take me! That's why we went to Buckingham's rooms isn't it? You wanted to leave the book back where I'd find it!"

A flicker of Franc's eyes told Amorette there was yet more to this story to be discovered. He sighed playfully and removed his hand from her throat to curl a loose tendril of her hair around his fingers. You know Amorette, you were the one woman I thought pure. I placed you upon a pedestal and kept you there even when all of the signs were staring me in the face. Then you started to meddle. You came to me about Iseult asking all those questions and forcing your way into other people's affairs that I realised you were just like the rest of them. So desperate to climb your way to love that you had forgotten those who you kicked on your way up. I had to take action. It was simple enough to procure the information from Buckingham. He didn't speak of the tunnel to anyone but I found his secret stash of the Queen's letters from all those years ago. After that, I took your book purely to see if you'd notice. It came in handy after all."

Amorette let a gasp escape her throat as it dawned on her just what his words meant. "Iseult didn't die naturally did she Franc? You killed her! My cousin said there were two messengers, but I only employed one. I thought it odd at the time but in all the commotion I let it slip my mind. You told me she was frightened of someone and I should have realised what that meant. She was frightened of you. You sought her out but I asked questions before you could have your way with her so you killed her before I could make contact and learn all of your secrets."

Porthos grabbed a fistful of Aramis' doublet to stop him storming into Franc's path. "Why are we just sitting here!" cried the marksman. "If we don't step in Amorette is going to end up like the rest of those women!"

"We wait because he won't do it here. He will slip up or Mademoiselle will find a loophole." Athos' expression was impassive, but they could all see the tight grip he held upon the butt of his pistol. Franc wasn't going to get the chance to make another move.

When he nodded ever so gently he confirmed his guilt and Amorette jerked away from his touch. He looked pained and he turned to look around him. Up and down the street he glanced and Amorette saw his gaze linger on a young family just up ahead. He was fingering the catch of his pistol and Amorette knew that she had to do something fast before his destructive streak ran wild in the market square. She braved the one question that she knew would pain her the most. "What is it exactly that you want from me Franc; what do I have to do to make you see that I've done nothing wrong? Can't you just stop all this and we can discuss what it is you need from me?"

Franc stared at her, mouth agape for a few moments before laying a heavy gaze upon her. "What I need of you Madam? I needed you ten years ago when I wanted you for my wife. Do you really think it's that easy to forget the pain you caused? I do not see any way you could possibly make it up to me now. We will go somewhere until it's dark and then we will continue where we left off last night."

Amorette almost felt all of her resolve waver when a thought occurred to her. D'artagnan was bound to be back by now and even if he wasn't, Amorette needed to get Franc off the streets before someone else got hurt. "Would you let me make it up to you Franc? I know now that you've always had a care for me and I've neglected all thoughts of us ever finding a way together but won't you ask me once more to marry you. Let's do what you've always wanted. We can marry and go away somewhere and no one ever has to know about any of this."

Franc snorted dismissively. "You'd do anything to save your own life wouldn't you?" Amorette forced herself to stare into his eyes longingly even though the thought of what she was doing was making her feel physically sick. She watched as his disbelieving expression slowly faded and was replaced by sheer determination. "If we are married you will obey me in each and every which way, do you understand me. I will not tolerate disobedience and discontent. You will be my wife in every way. There will be no more talk of independency and freedom. You will do what I say when I say it. You will leave Paris and all of your friends behind. You will not utter another word about all that has occurred here!"

A bubble of fear was steadily growing in Amorette's stomach, but not for what would happen if all of this went wrong. She feared being married to a man so bent on destroying her. Despite all of this she nodded solemnly.

"What the hell is she doing?" Porthos growled.

Athos opened his mouth to speak but his head was jerked back in the direction of Amorette and Franc when the lady let out a yelp. Franc had leaned in to kiss her and she pulled back, her hands flat against his chest as she tried to push him away. "Franc I have a condition."

Franc gripped Amorette's arms tightly as in incredulous look crossed his face. "Whatever it is, it's a no!"

"Please Franc just listen. I only want to choose where we marry!" Amorette pleaded with her eyes but she still wasn't sure whether her plan would work.

"Let me guess, you want to be married from your mother's home town and invite a plethora of guests? So that Athos can swoop in?" Franc grabbed her and tried to drag her along, the pistol firmly pressed to her side.

"No, Franc please hear me out! Call it a wedding gift!" Her words at least had Franc stopping again to listen to what she had to say. Amorette knew of a church just outside the city walls and far enough away from the busy Paris streets that Franc would have to forgo his want of hurting anyone else but her. "There's a pretty little church just outside the city that I've always been fond of. It is quiet and peaceful there and no one will find us. If we cross here onto the Rue St Denis we can follow it to the city gates and beyond. Please Franc, spare me this one thing?" Amorette fluttered her eyelashes and used her old but trusted trick of gently laying her hands on the velvet sleeve of Franc's black doublet.

"She's a clever girl," Aramis muttered.

"How so?" asked Athos, his eyes still trained on the pair that were one market stall away from them.

Treville nodded his understanding to Aramis. "She knows that la Belisle doesn't know the streets like we do. He doesn't know his way about so they will cut a straight path to the church and it gets him off the streets before he hurts someone else. The Cometess knows we can get there first. She knows we know the Paris streets like the back of our hand. Porthos, D'artagnan; follow them just in case. The rest of us will take a short cut and beat them to it."

Porthos and D'artagnan nodded and moved off in pursuit of Franc and Amorette but a sharp whistle had them turning back to their friends. "If there's trouble don't forget, he's mine!" called Aramis with just a hint of malice in his voice. With that the two parties swiftly returned to the Paris streets.

Franc half dragged Amorette along the Rue St Denis. Many times she stumbled and almost fell when her ankle gave way but Franc's vice like grip on her upper arm kept her upright. Just as they came upon the city gates Franc pulled Amorette aside and she received another warning to obey him in behaving naturally as they crossed the city walls. Amorette knew it was because Red Guards and musketeers alike patrolled the walls but not a single part of her contemplated trying to escape or attract attention. Franc was still armed and there were still innocent people milling about. The crowds thinned as they crossed the tow bridge onto the Faubourg and ventured towards the church.

The impact of her foot upon the stone steps had Amorette wincing as pain shot through her ankle. She didn't make a sound though and the midday sun disappeared suddenly from above their heads and they were plunged into the relative gloom of the tiny church. They both stopped in the entranceway and took in their sombre surroundings. The air was stifling and oppressive and Amorette not for the first time wondered how priests or monks coped cooped up all day without fresh air or daylight. She turned her attention to Franc and noticed that he too was experiencing a feeling of contemplation in the holy place. At length though he dragged her into the room and they crossed the large flag-stones to where the pews sat in two separate rows. They were the only ones there and Amorette knew exactly what she was about to do when Franc's hand slipped from her arm and he walked a little ahead of her.

"I'm sorry that I lied to you Franc," she whispered into the gloom.

"It's alright Madam. Once we are married none of our past shall matter. I always did know in truth that you saw me as your match!" Franc had an expectant smile plastered over his face and Amorette wouldn't have been surprised if as soon as their vows were spoken he didn't throw her down onto the little floor of the church and try to bed her there and then.

Amorette shook her head, her feet coming to a complete stop beside the back pews. "That's not what I meant Franc." There was no one else here but her, and Amorette knew that she would rather die a thousand deaths than suffer being married to the man before her. A quick glance told her that Franc held his pistol loosely and his gaze searched about for a priest. "I'm sorry because I can't marry you!"

In that moment there was a sharp crack, but Franc's pistol didn't smoke. In fact the sound was not that of a musket firing, but of it hitting the stone floor. Aramis held his own pistol at point blank range against Franc's forehead and Athos stood off to the side a little. It had been him who had charged first from the little side room to knock the pistol from Franc's hand right at the opportune moment. Amorette felt her shoulders sag in disbelief and overwhelming relief.

The sun was high in the sky when Amorette finally looked up from where she sat. She was perched on the stone steps of the church and D'artagnan had just sat down beside her. "How did you know we would follow?" he asked gently.

Amorette shrugged. "I didn't. I just thought I should get him off the street in case anyone else got hurt. I don't think he would have given much thought to killing anyone else who happened to get in the way."

Treville appeared at her other side and D'artagnan stood to give Amorette a helping hand up. They stood and watched as the other three musketeers led Franc out of the church and down the steps. Franc was only given the chance to spare Amorette a scathing look over D'artagnan's shoulders as they marched him away. "They're taking him to the châtalet," Treville said as they also made their way down the steps. "There will be an investigation and he will be questioned, but with what you managed to get out of him Cometess and with all of us as witnesses his fate is pretty much sealed."

She moved to follow Treville but D'artagnan pulled her back with a light touch to her shoulder. "I should warn you. We all heard most of that conversation earlier. Athos knows about your kiss with Aramis." Amorette turned to look at the young musketeer and wasn't sure whether he was going to laugh at the awkwardness of her situation or tell her off for potentially becoming involved with Athos' friend.

Amorette feigned indifference and shrugged. "Why should I care what Athos does or doesn't hear D'artagnan. It's not like he cares enough to kiss me himself is it." D'artagnan shook his head knowingly at her and led her down the remaining steps.

Hours later, Amorette lay in bed with a headache that had been growing since she had arrived back at the palace. The sun had set an hour ago and she was desperate for sleep to claim her but it didn't. Claude lay beside her on the bed, a book lying on her chest. Amorette hadn't wanted to be alone but she had been too afraid to ask Constance to stay with her. She was surprised when Claude took it upon herself to stay at her side without having to be asked. Whilst Amorette liked Claude very much, there was something about the woman that Amorette had always been wary of. She knew that Claude was fickle at the best of times and that she always thoroughly put herself first but tonight there was something different in the air, some new unchartered territory.

"Strange that Franc didn't send me one of those Tarot things," Claude mused. "I'm not going to lie and say I've remained faithful to my husband so I actually expected one."

Amorette rolled her eyes as a chuckle almost escaped her lips. Claude did always have a knack for making everything about her. "Perhaps you weren't known to him Claude. Or maybe he intended to send you one but didn't get the chance. It seems he has been too occupied of late with how I've disappointed him."

"Don't say that! Think about what your life would have been if you had married that man! You would be but a shell of the woman you are now!" _Just like my mother_ , Amorette thought as she contemplated Claude's words. "I know you don't approve of my taking lovers but I know you wouldn't kill me for it. I just don't understand it." Claude turned so that she lay on her side, facing Amorette.

Amorette smiled warmly at her friend. "I don't understand it either Claude. Franc wanted what he couldn't have and it angered him that women were making their own choices about their lives. I hate that you feel I don't approve Claude. I know I've been harsh at times but I just wanted you to make sure you were doing the right thing for yourself. In reality I look up to you immensely. You've taken a leap that I've never thought possible for myself. I suppose my feelings have prevented me from doing so but I'm starting to see now that life really is too short."

Claude turned again so that she lay facing the celling. "You've judged me for living my life a little too vicariously in the past Amorette but I want you to know something. Constance told me about what had happened of course, and when the musketeers walked you back into the palace earlier and I saw your face and the exhaustion and fear in it I went to my children and I held them close. Perhaps you were right. My life is mine for the living but I do need to ensure that my children are a part of that life."

Amorette rolled over so that she was on her side facing away from Claude and blew out the candle beside her. In the darkness behind her she felt around for Claude's hand and when she found it she squeezed tightly. She had been very wrong about Claude in many ways.

 _ **So there have been a few things that Amorette may have lied about, one being how she knew about that secret tunnel that led to the Queen's rooms. Is it simply because the Queen or Buckingham told her, or is there another more complicated reason? I'm going to clear all of that up in the next few chapters. There's also the inevitable moment with Athos that we've all been waiting for too!**_


	22. Chapter 22

_**So what is Amorette really all about? We might be about to find out. Athos also may be about to receive another (metaphorical) slap to the face in this chapter or the next. If anyone's seen Outlander, I kind of pictured Henry Fitzgerald to look like Sam Heughan who plays Jamie Frazer.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

If Amorette had thought England was cold, it was nothing to the freezing temperatures of Scotland. Buckingham had managed to lure her away from Paris under the guise of helping him root out Henry Fitzgerald and foiling the Scotsman's plans. There was a large part of Amorette that did in fact believe that Buckingham had done so to remove her from the distractions and anxieties that Franc's trial would bring. They had been traveling for so long that Amorette was now no longer aware of the date. She had no knowledge of whether the trial was still taking place or if it had ended. She knew that the outcome would be Franc's execution but not knowing the ins and outs greatly calmed her nerves on the matter. Buckingham was going to face some trouble when they did return for dragging her away from a trial that she may have been called as a witness in even though Treville had all but promised her that she would be kept out of it completely.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Amorette called to Buckingham who was sat at the other end of the fishing boat. Finlairg castle could clearly be seen from their vantage point on the River Lachay. "What If he's not even here?"

Buckingham turned back to her with a bored frown. "He's a Scotsman in hiding so it goes without saying that he will have taken up fort in one of his clan's own homes!"

Buckingham had been telling Amorette ever since their return to Paris of Henry Fitzgerald's absence within their friendship groups. Amorette had not really thought much of it until he had not attended her birthday celebrations with all the others. Despite Buckingham's close relations with the King of England, Henry had still managed to wander astray and rebel against English rule in Scotland. Something within the dashing young red-headed Scotsman had snapped and he was now secretly campaigning to overthrow the Stuart monarchy in favour of a Scottish crown. In her own mind Amorette actually felt pride instead of ridicule for another of her old friends who was standing up for what he believed in but Henry's plot was foolhardy and doomed to fail. Buckingham had dragged them both to Argyll to try and find their Scottish friend before his plans became actions. They had searched every one of the castles and strongholds that belonged to the Campbell clan in the hopes that Henry would be hiding with the protection of his family but so far they had found nothing.

Finlairg castle was the last on the list, and Amorette was pretty sure that Henry would have heard tell of their search of him by now. It was with great reluctance therefore that she stepped out of the boat onto the rocky shore of the peninsula that the Castle was nestled upon. Buckingham was in hiding somewhat, with Stuart tartan draped around his shoulders in homage to his English king's heritage and Amorette thought that he couldn't have looked more out of place. When they reached the Castle doors they found them unlocked and the downstairs halls deserted. Amorette thought it was painfully clear that no one had resided there in months. Buckingham though was still convinced that they would find Henry there. They split up, taking separate floors to search as the sun began to set. It was in the amber glow of the cold sun that Amorette reached the top floor of the house and began to call out to Henry.

The rooms here were all bedchambers and each finely draped four-poster bed was extremely inviting to Amorette after all of her traveling. Hopefully after this search Buckingham would give up and they could begin to make their way back to Paris. She moved to one of the windows that overlooked Loch Tay and stared out at the beautiful landscape. It would not have been a bad life, she supposed; to marry a Laird and take up home in one of these grand Castles that sat in such stunning landscapes. It would have been a hard life as mistress of a Castle like this, but a worthwhile one. There was one condemning factor though. The feud between the clans was something that struck fear into the hearts of many. The murder and bloodshed that was commonplace and had in fact won the Campbell's that very Castle was not something that Amorette would have considered appealing to any young woman, Scottish or not.

"Did that fool really think to leave a lass as pretty as you to wander these strange halls alone?" rasped a voice from behind Amorette. She jumped and turned, pulling her pistol from its brace around her waist. There was no danger though. Henry Fitzgerald was leaning nearby against the post of a bed watching her with a grin on his face. She lowered her pistol gently and returned the grin. At once he lurched forward and gathered her into a bone crushing hug, lifting her off her feet as she chuckled. "I like this! Very fetching," Henry whispered as he tugged on her brace of pistols. He pulled away a little to hold Amorette at arm's length and she saw his eyes flash as he recognised the colour of the yellow and black Barclay tartan that she wore. Despite despising anything that would lead her to think of her father Amorette had little choice in the matter of which tartan she wore. Her mother's roots were wholly French, and her father had spent years trying to dispel the truth about his Scottish lineage of ages past. Amorette told herself it was only to keep warm that she wore it, but there was something within her that felt proud to wear the colours. "I don't like this though lassie! What on earth would drive you to wear that man's colours?"

Amorette let Henry rip the broach from the tartan. The tartan landed on the floor in a crumpled heap and the broach followed with a dull thud. Amorette shrugged her shoulders before answering. "My father's name has more influence here than my own. It seemed logical to wear his family's colours."

Henry shook his head and his hands left her shoulders. He retreated a few steps to lean against the bed-post again. "And why would you need influence here Amorette? I'm sure you already know that whatever it is that Buckingham wants; he won't get it from me. Not even by softening the blow by sending your lovely self will he win me over!"

"Henry please-"

"No! Scurry back to him and tell him to leave me be. I no longer play fiddle to his king!" Henry turned on his heel and marched the length of the room before Amorette could stop him. With only a little apprehension she took off after him, badgering him with questions as she went. All were met with a resounding silence.

"Henry I only want to help you!" Amorette pleaded at long last. "Buckingham can too if you let him!"

With his back to her Amorette could only gaze at the back of his head and distinguish one copper curl from another as he contemplated her words. She saw his body heave as he sighed and thought she might be getting somewhere but when he turned to face her again there was a steely resolve in his eyes. "I appreciate that you may want to help me for honest reasons lass, but Buckingham is no longer an ally to me. I am a Campbell, and as such my duty is here in Argyll with my kinsmen. An English duke will not wish to help my cause to take apart the union and bring about home rule for Scotland! Especially not one so close to the English king! It's not that I'm not happy to see you, but don't try and trick me into a prison cell! I know Buckingham sent you to sweet-talk me and on any other matter it may just work, but this is serious."

"I…I...I'm not helping him…." Amorette stammered as confusion marred her face.

"France and Scotland have always been staunch allies! Why are you turning tail on that now for him Amorette?" Henry's nostrils flared but Amorette knew that he wasn't angry at her.

"I'm not here because my patriotism has fled or because I owe Buckingham anything. I'm here as your friend! I only came with Buckingham as I had no other way to find you! I don't want to lose another friend Henry!"

"What does that mean lass?" It was Henry's turn to appear confused.

Amorette heaved a great sigh as she resigned herself to the fact that she would have to explain everything to her old friend. "You haven't heard about Franc have you?" When his brows knitted in even further confusion and he shook his head Amorette turned and approached the bed and sat down at the end of it. She watched with tired eyes as the Scotsman took long strides until he was able to sit beside her.

"Is he well then?" he said solemnly.

Amorette shook her head quickly. "I can't honestly say that I know."

"So you haven't seen him?"

"I have seen him quite recently actually, but it was not altogether the most pleasant of experiences." Amorette saw worry flash in Henry's eyes.

"Enough of this, lass tell me what's going on!"

Amorette blurted it all out quickly so that she didn't have to prolong her tale. "Franc attacked and killed four women that we know of. There could possibly be more. He was sending tarot cards as a means of scaremongering to many women of French court and he tried to kill me! He was to face trial when I left Paris. The outcome was predictable but I'm not sure whether the trial is ongoing or not. If he isn't already dead then he will die for his crimes. He's trying to plead insanity, that he was unwell. I know better though. He knew exactly what he was doing when he killed all of those women for their 'impurities'. He knew what he was doing when he tried to kill me! That's the man we grew up with! The man we called friend Henry! What I'm trying to say is that I know you are patriotic and you do what you believe is right for your country. You're a good man who has strength behind his beliefs and courage in his convictions but you cannot march on London with two hundred men and hope to change everything. I cannot lose another friend and you are not the type of man who desires martyrdom!"

"Nae I'm not one for martyrdom lass." Henry shook his head as he stood up to pace the floorboards. "I cannae believe it! I knew Franc had a care for you but…" His words trailed off into silence as he gazed out of the window. Whilst Henry's accent was decidedly Scottish he had always been well mannered and well spoken, but in those rare seconds it slipped a little as shock let Scottish slang and abbreviations enter his speech. "Are you telling me that you showed some laddie a bit of attention and he tried to kill you for it?"

Amorette nodded. "In a nutshell, yes Henry. But the same goes for all of the women he targeted. He thought we were all impure and tarnished." Amorette watched the Scotsman pace back and forth as he digested the news.

"I can see for myself that you're fine but…what on earth was he thinking?" Henry made his way back to the bed. He placed a large comforting hand on her shoulder as he sat beside her again but Amorette no longer cared for that topic of conversation.

"I meant what I said Henry. I only came here with Buckingham because he was my only means to find you. I'm here as a friend to offer you what assistance I can. What I can do for you is take you back to France with me." Henry smirked, almost ready to refuse her but Amorette didn't give him a chance to speak. "The plan you have concocted will not be enough to attain the goal you desire. Come back to France with me where I have influence enough to speak for you. As you said, France and Scotland are allies. There will be people at French court who can provide you with men; strategists and soldiers to make your attack all the more influential."

She could see that Henry appreciated her words by the way he smiled proudly at her but Amorette still wasn't sure which path he would take. "What about him downstairs?" he questioned. "He isnae letting me go to France to conscript an army lass!"

"As you said, this is the land of your kinsman. You know it and the seas surrounding it. Surely you can get us away from here without Buckingham noticing?" She saw a glint in Henry's eyes, one that told her that he was at least considering her words. Amorette let herself fall quiet so that her friend could deliberate. She didn't want to push him too hard otherwise he might see through her lies. The minutes bore on and on and Amorette suddenly remembered her trump card. "I know about those letters Henry!"

"What letters?" he asked suspiciously.

Amorette gazed at him with a quirked eyebrow. "The letters that were sent to the Queen of France. Don't worry, Buckingham knows nothing of them and nor does anyone else. I do though, and I think that tells you all that you need to know about how I have the lending of important ears." That part at least was true, and it won him over.

Henry gently took her hand in his. "Come with me lass. You're right in that I know these lands. I knew you and Buckingham were searching for me, so I've a ship moored not far from here with the men I trust on-board. We'll return you to Paris. I'm not sure I can promise to stay for long but I'm willing to put some faith in all that you have said."

That was the thing about old castles. There were so many ways in and out that had yet to be discovered. Henry led Amorette out through a very narrow spiral staircase that was tucked well out of sight. "So who was the laddie that turned your head then?" Henry probed out of the blue. "Must be pretty serious if it led Franc to go to such extremes; some French pansy who'd make you a grand Duchesse if you married him?"

Amorette snorted as she thought of just how much more adventurous and thought provoking the truth sounded. "No…" she sighed. "It was a musketeer!"

Henry let out a peal of laughter as they reached a small door that would lead them out onto the banks of the River Lachay.

Amorette hadn't realised that Henry planned to sail up the Seine into the very heart of Paris and the news gave her cause to worry a little that the plan she and Buckingham concocted may not work. Sailing the narrow English channel would be difficult enough for Buckingham to do without Henry noticing that he followed, but the Seine was another thing altogether. It seemed to work though. A few weeks later the ship that carried Henry's trusted men and Amorette was all but moored at the docks in Paris when Buckingham's great hulking warship sailed out of the mist to greet them. Amorette felt a pang of worry for her English friend as she saw the look on Henry's face.

There was nowhere for the Scotsmen to run to though. Buckingham had enclosed them. He crossed over onto Henry's ship by taking hold of some ropes and swinging so that he landed just beside Amorette on deck. It was almost like something out of a romance novel and Amorette almost felt sick to the stomach at his own pride of the trick. She didn't have much time to dwell upon it though. At once it seemed to dawn on Henry just what was going on. He looked from Amorette to Buckingham accusingly but Amorette spoke before he could voice his anger. "I'm sorry Henry but I had no choice. I really did mean what I said. I don't want to lose another friend! At least now you have a chance to avoid punishment."

"I couldn't very well take you from your own lands in Scotland old boy," simpered Buckingham. "I'd have had a terrible fight on my hands which I would surely have lost but here in Paris with only a small guard you are mine for the taking. The French don't want a war with England. They are crippled with debts already from pulling Spain's hair. The Cometess is right, this way you will keep your life-"

"You aren't about to keep yours!" Henry roared as he and his men drew their pistols to point at Buckingham.

Before anyone had the chance to fire Buckingham made a grab for Amorette and she wasn't prepared at all for what happened next. She felt the cool blade of Buckingham's dagger at her throat. "George what the hell do you think you are doing?" Amorette snarled with a hint of fear in her voice.

"Getting us out of here!" Buckingham snarled back as he began to retreat in small steps towards the railings. Amorette glanced towards the side of the ship but there was still a large gap between the railings and the quay. If Buckingham jumped he would have to swim.

"You know I won't hurt her so that's not playing fair! Stop hiding behind her skirts and come fight me like a man!" Henry's face was puce with anger and although he claimed he wouldn't hurt her, Amorette wasn't so sure that was true. She felt a bump as Buckingham's legs slammed into the railings behind him and he began to lean backwards a little. "Hold your fire until he lets the lass go! He's not stupid enough to dunk her in the Seine!" Henry cried to his men.

In her mind's eye Amorette thought she could see what would happen next. Buckingham would loosen his grip enough to thrust her forwards and he would make a break for it over the side of the railings as Henry's men fired at him. Her dress was a simple one, but it would still hinder her and Amorette wasn't a strong swimmer to begin with. She hoped that Buckingham had no plans to take her over the railings with him. That didn't happen though. Seconds after Henry's shout a torrent of fire from the quay was let loose and Amorette felt Buckingham stumble backwards over the railings with his arm still clamped firmly around her. Suddenly a white hot pain erupted in her right shoulder and Amorette let out an astonished shriek as the murky water came up to meet them.

 _White hot pain burned just under her ribs as she tried to stay standing, her grip on the letters clutched in her hand loosening with each second that passed. They landed on the tiled floor with a gentle thud and she followed suit soon after. As Marie cried and screamed and Captain Neville tried to drag the young girl from the room it was suddenly all so clear to Amorette what had happened. It was her father who had told the Spanish that they had a spy in their midst and told them where to find her; her father who had potentially sealed her fate in letting an assassin come for her. They hoped to prevent her from passing on what she knew and to stop those letters ever seeing the light of day again. As she lay bleeding onto the Spanish tiles a strange sort of resolve kicked in. No one else knew the codes to decipher the letters and if she died in Madrid, no one would ever know the truth._

 _She imagined rather than witnessed her father standing over her, laughing at her weakness. It would be so easy to just let the darkness take her, and sallow her whole. She was tired of this game of cat and mouse and here was a ready-made way to end it all. To simply die and leave them all to fight it out amongst themselves seemed reasonable after campaigning for a peace that none of them really seemed to want. She would be honoured by those who knew what she had strived to do and would be remembered fondly. It was no coward's death to defend her country with her life. Nevertheless, she forced herself to her feet. Her father didn't get to gloat or rejoice at her death. No, he would be forced to watch sickeningly as she stood tall and recovered from the deadly blow that he had dealt her. He would be furious to know his only daughter would be honoured and held dear for standing up for her patriotic beliefs when he schemed and meddled against even his own English King for gold._

 _Amorette did not know how she managed it, but she took herself and the now blood soaked letters towards the door. Out in the vast hallway, she could faintly hear Neville shouting and Marie crying. Now was not a time to call out and distract them. Clutching her wound she forced herself onwards. No one seemed to pay any heed to her as they all rushed past the dying Mademoiselle who looked to have only seconds left in the world. Instead they chased a rumour and Amorette was left to find the way for herself. Hours later she would not recall how she forced herself along endless corridor after corridor of the Buen retiro Palace towards someone that she knew or of how Neville had managed to support her on one shoulder and drag a hysterical Marie along with them. He had though, and Amorette still had trouble piecing the days after the incident together. She floated in and out of consciousness but she still clutched the letters tightly. On the third day someone prised the letters from her hand to whisk them away to Paris. She had been too slow. She had not fulfilled her duty in delivering them._

"You were to open fire only after we had disembarked the ship!" Buckingham yelled as he berated the Red Guard captain. "Yes, I think that's what I told you! Not even the Scotsman was foolish enough to fire at the Cometess! I'll have your badge for this!"

Amorette coughed and spluttered from where she lay on the solid ground with a hand clamped tightly over her shoulder. When Buckingham had taken her over the side with him his dagger had slipped and slashed her shoulder in the commotion. She supposed it could have been worse; she could have a musket ball imbedded there instead but that didn't console her much. A few feet away a dripping wet Henry Fitzgerald sat watching her with nervous eyes. He had thrown himself into the water after he had heard her shriek. Amorette didn't want to be obnoxious in admitting it but she was touched that in her moment of need both the Englishman and the Scotsman had put aside their differences to aid her. Buckingham wouldn't have been able to drag her from the Seine alone. They had returned to their normal hostility seconds later though.

Buckingham's words still heavy on her mind, Amorette forced herself into a sitting position and then managed to stand. She threw Henry a disgruntled look and turned away from him. Buckingham had planned it all along. She never would have thought he would have been the one to throw her into the line of fire and here she was, blood pouring from her shoulder wound as she trudged away from them all. Buckingham called out to her but she didn't stop walking. She was done with all of their schemes and games that somehow never went to plan. She was over all of the intrigues and gossip that led to war between friends. They had both intended to use her in some way, and Amorette couldn't for the life of her fathom why she hadn't seen it coming.

A weary look around early morning Les Halles had her turning towards the Marias and Buckingham's lodgings. She wouldn't make it all the way to the palace and perhaps that was a blessing. She could just imagine the commotion she would create showing up looking like a drowned river rat covered in blood. She would have many questions to answer and that was precisely what she didn't want. She wanted nothing more to do with any of it.

If Amorette had been just a few moments earlier, she would have been witness to four musketeers tearing Buckingham's rooms apart in search of any incriminating evidence. As it was, she arrived just as they managed to hide themselves. "Don't touch me!" she yelled as Buckingham made a grab for her arm. "I don't want you anywhere near me after the stunt you just pulled. What is it about men thinking that women are just a doll to be pushed and pulled in every which direction they choose. I'm not just a ploy for you to use George!"

"I know that your upset and I'm sorry for springing it on you," Buckingham gently said as he made another grab for his hand and she pulled away. "But if you knew, it would have given the game away. If Henry had known that I wasn't really going to hurt you then things wouldn't have gone as they did. Just the right amount of fear in your expression made the whole thing run smoothly!"

"Smoothly?" Amorette shrieked as she pulled off her black cloak and pointed to her bloody shoulder. Athos almost jumped up out of his hiding place to go to Amorette when he saw the blood, but Porthos grabbed a fistful of his doublet and pulled him back into place. "Smoothly George? Do you know, I don't think you know the meaning of the word? I agreed to trick Henry because it would save his life even though it's the most horrible thing I've ever had to do. I did not however agree to be used as bait to try and ensnare him! That wasn't fair George!"

Amorette swayed where she stood and Buckingham held his hands out, ready to catch her if she should fall. "Will you sit down Mademoiselle? It's a miracle you haven't fainted already from loss of blood."

"No I won't sit down," she snarled, wrenching her arms out of Buckingham's reach. She heard not just tiredness in her voice but despair as tears pricked her eyes. "I'm done with following orders George. That's it now, I mean it. I want no more involvement in your schemes and tricks. I'm aware that you've helped me out of a great many scrapes but I am not going to be your human pin cushion. What happens next time eh? When the dagger is sharper? Or it slips lower? I don't want to die for one of your schemes!"

"I helped you out of friendship Amorette; in much the same way that you wanted to save Henry from the fate of being executed for treason. You owe me nothing!" Buckingham moved closer to her and yet again Amorette backed away. He stopped still and held up his hands to show that he meant her no harm. "Alright, I hear you. I won't ask anything more of you. You should stay here though until you've had your shoulder seen to. Stay here as long as you like in fact. We chose these rooms together and they are as much yours as they are mine. I've a thing or two to take care of as I'm sure you can guess. I'll leave you in a bit to sort them and when I come back we can talk."

Amorette shook her head, tears flowing freely down her face. "I don't want to talk George. I'll be gone by the time you get back!" With that Amorette left the parlour and ambled down the corridor to what had been her own room. She closed the door gently and let herself lie on the couch whilst she waited for the sound of Buckingham leaving.

"Aramis!" Athos hurriedly called as he gently nudged Amorette's door open and found her lying on the couch. The marksman quickly followed him into the room and approached her sleeping form. Ever so gently he placed two fingers upon her wrist to find a pulse. Finding it as strong as it should be, he sighed gently and gave Athos a reassuring smile.

"She's just passed out, that's all." Aramis took in the sight of Amorette's chemise that she wore under her corset soaked with blood across one shoulder and arm and moved to examine her wound. His fingertips had barely made contact with the wet muslin material before Amorette Jerked awake, almost crying out as she started to scramble away from him. She stopped short when she saw him though and Aramis copied the movement Buckingham had made only moments before in holding up his hands to show he meant no harm. "It's only us, Mademoiselle."

"You need to leave!" she rasped out. "If Buckingham comes back and finds you all here he will be furious!"

"That," said Aramis as he ignored her last statement, "Is going to need needlework."

Amorette hissed in pain when Aramis cleaned away the blood as gently as he could. She could hear the other men beyond the door still searching through the rooms and had to force herself not to roll her eyes.

"How did this happen Mademoiselle?" Aramis asked from beside her.

Amorette ignored him and instead called out to Athos, "I don't know what you are expecting to find here! I've searched these rooms from top to bottom every chance I got. There's nothing to be found."

"And what exactly would you have been looking for?" Athos queried as he appeared at her side. "Here," he said as he handed something to Aramis. "Needle and thread. I wouldn't have thought an agent of Buckingham would be searching his own rooms."

"Athos," Aramis warned. "Now is not the time."

Amorette started to shake her head at her old friend in disappointment of his low opinion of her but stopped with a wince as her shoulder gave a twinge. "I've told you I'm not working for Buckingham. I'm no traitor!" She felt a little self-conscious with him looming over her like that. She had slipped the strap of her corset off her shoulder and Aramis had ripped the sleeve of her chemise away to get to the wound. The swell of her breast pressed against the inside of the corset as Amorette breathed in and out. Those cobalt blue eyes would surely be raking over her form, finding fault the white bare skin of her shoulder and chest.

Amorette braved a look at the gaping wound in her shoulder now that Aramis had removed most of the blood. Somehow without the blood to hide behind, it all looked worse and Amorette felt the little blood that was left drain from her face. "Is there any wine out there?" Aramis called to Porthos and D'artagnan.

"Buckingham is English, he refuses to drink French wine," she muttered.

She watched as Aramis and Athos shared a look. "Brandy?" Athos asked.

For a few seconds Amorette hesitated but then she nodded towards the door. "The cabinet against the wall in the parlour, there should be some there." Athos disappeared and returned a few seconds later with the brandy decanter. He wet a cloth with the alcohol and Aramis used it to clean the wound. Amorette let out a low hiss as the alcohol made contact with her shoulder but she knew it would help to prevent infection. She turned towards Athos again to find him pouring a glass of the brown liquid. "I'd rather not if it's all the same. I want a clear head. There's something I need to do later."

"You shouldn't be going anywhere in this state," Aramis chastised. Amorette simply smiled meekly at him. "Now, this is going to hurt quite a bit, especially without the brandy. The wound is clean and relatively straight but it's deep. It's going to take a while to heal." Amorette nodded at the marksman who looked like he wanted to be doing anything but sewing together her torn apart shoulder in that moment. "Try and hold as still as you can for me."

She watched as Aramis threaded the needle, his doublet discarded nearby. He moved the stool he sat on a little closer to her and smiled reasuredly. Gently he placed one hand at the base of her neck and Amorette felt her pulse quicken at the frightening prospect of the needle being pushed through her skin. At once Aramis sensed her fear and looked up at Athos who still stood over them, observing the scene. Amorette couldn't read the look at all, but a second later Athos had placed himself on the other side of the backless couch that she lay on and took a firm grip of her upper arm to hold her in place. Amorette screwed her eyes shut before the first prick of the needle assaulted her senses. At once she felt Athos' hand tighten its hold on her arm and she gripped his arm in return, squeezing it as pain seared through her shoulder once again.

With him so close to her, she could feel his breath on her face and smell a scent that was uniquely his. She held on to it, and concentrated on only it as the pain in her shoulder worsened. "I meant what I said," she rasped. "There's nothing here to find. Whatever it is that Buckingham may or may not be planning there's no trace of it here."

She expected a sarcastic retort or clever clipped comment from Athos but instead he simply gave her arm a squeeze and said, "Just keep talking to me. Concentrate on that."

Her eyes flew open in surprise only to find Cobalt blue ones already staring back at her. "I can't tell you any more Athos."

"You still haven't answered my question Mademoiselle," Aramis ventured slowly. "How did this happen."

Amorette didn't dare turn her head towards him in fear of catching sight of the needle protruding from her shoulder so she kept her eyes trained on Athos. "Buckingham wanted to trick Henry Fitzgerald into leaving Scotland. I persuaded him to come to Paris with me. Buckingham met us at the docks. Red Guards opened fire and Buckingham's knife slipped when he tried to put us out of the line of fire. He knew Henry wouldn't hurt me without good reason so he was using me to get us both off the ship. I know it was an accident, but I knew nothing of the order to shoot until it occurred."

"And I suppose you still can't tell us what all of this is about?" Athos remarked as his nostrils flared dangerously.

"Got it in one," Amorette chuckled meekly, but Athos remained stony faced.

"This is not a laughing matter Cometess. Whoever you are protecting, consider them and what you do for them very well because they clearly aren't doing a very good job of protecting you are they?" Athos' eyes flashed to Aramis' steady hand and back to her.

She stared at him, her mouth gaping open. The undecipherable look he gave her in that moment almost unravelled her completely. She suddenly wanted to just tell him everything and let him wallow in the fact that he had been wrong about her all along. Something deep within her also wanted to tell him because she knew that she really would have his undivided protection and admiration once he knew the truth. She almost did tell him everything in that moment, but then Aramis leaned back on his stool. "There, finished."

Amorette tore her gaze from Athos and looked towards the marksman gratefully. She felt the pressure leave her other arm as Athos released his grip and retreated away from the couch. She tried to move her injured shoulder a little but the twinge of pain stopped her. She came to her senses quite quickly after that and realised that she had been about to blurt everything out to the one person who couldn't possibly be told. Athos would only try to stop her or step in in some way if he knew the truth of what she was about.

"Will these do for bandages?" D'artagnan called from the doorway.

"Ah!" called Aramis as he stood to take the old linen strips from D'artagnan. "Have your maid wrap these around your shoulder Mademoiselle."

Amorette shook her head. "There is no maid."

"You should have one," muttered Athos. Amorette simply shrugged. "I'll do it," said Athos, holding his hand out to take the bandages.

Amorette felt her eyes almost bulge out of her head. She felt beads of perspiration on her forehead and in the hollow between her breasts. Aramis seemed to sense her uncomfortableness at that prospect. "Or I'll do it if you prefer."

Amorette quickly nodded at the marksman and Athos left the room without even glancing at her. She sagged back against the couch in relief. The thought of having Athos' touch upon her bare skin was just too much to handle in that moment. Aramis stood over her and urged her forward into a sitting position. "Can you…" He gestured to her corset and Amorette blushed a little.

"Of course." She placed a hand over the top of her corset between her breasts and tried to push it down a little so that Aramis had more room to wrap her shoulder. Just as he began to start though, Amorette reached up and grabbed his hand. "Thank you, Aramis."

"Don't worry about it Mademoiselle, Athos makes most people uncomfortable at the best of times."

Amorette shook her head gently. "Not just for that. For sewing me back together again, for everything. Thank you." Aramis simply smiled gently at her and began to wrap her shoulder. "I'm sorry that you have to be caught between us bickering all the time Aramis. I just can't seem to help myself. He just makes my blood boil so easily."

"I think you do the same to him," said Aramis as he tied a knot in the bandage and stood back. Amorette fussed with her corset, pulling it back up a fraction and wrapping what was left of the ripped chemise sleeve over her shoulder. "You should know that I spoke with Aramis about the kiss we shared. I explained that it meant nothing at all and told him not to bring it up in conversation. Remarkably he seemed to understand. Or at least he gave the impression that he did." Suddenly the sound of a door banging from down the hall had Amorette jumping to her feet. Buckingham was back, and he was walking towards them. "Go! Whatever way you came in I need you to go from! I don't care if it's the servant's stairs or a window, go!"

She pushed them towards the parlour and turned and tried to smile innocently at Buckingham as he entered the room carrying a large box. A shop girl followed him and immediately set about opening the box where he set it. "I'm truly sorry Amorette for what happened this morning. I want you to know that. I've been rotten to you, asking you to get involved with the whole Henry business. Accept this gift as my apology."

"George…" Amorette began but he cut her off.

"No Amorette. I heard what you said, and I promise from now on you will hear no word from me of plots and schemes. The dress is a gift of thanks for your loyalty and friendship over all these years. It is also only one half of a gift." Buckingham's eyes sparkled as he relished in confusing her with his next statement. "You would not wish to meet the second half of your gift underdressed now would you."

Amorette turned towards the dress as the shop girl held it up. The beads and silk bodice were of a startling blue so vivid that it reminded her swiftly of a pair of cobalt blue eyes. The velvet skirt was a slightly deeper blue, with a flocked pattern of intricate flowers. It truly was a work of art and the most beautiful dress Amorette had ever seen. She jerked her head in the direction of her bedroom and Buckingham and the girl followed. Buckingham glanced towards the couch where the pillow was stained with her blood. "Don't worry. It's all bandaged up," said Amorette as she slipped behind the dressing screen and the girl followed. Buckingham took her explanation at face value and didn't ask any more questions. A part of her died in that moment. As long as the bloody mess was gone, Buckingham didn't really give much thought or care for her shoulder. The dress was to butter her up. Right then and there she decided to keep the dress. She was owed it and a lot more besides for her loyalty to him. That was all about to go to pot though when she revealed what he had been hiding all these years.

The shop girl helped Amorette out of her skirt and corset and blanched when she saw the bandaged shoulder. Amorette quickly fumbled in her skirt that now sat in the chair behind her for coins and pressed them firmly into the girl's hand. The girl looked into her eyes for the first time in acknowledgement of the money and Amorette recognised her instantly. "You're … Tilda? Am I right?" Karlotta de la Roche's old maid nodded back at Amorette meekly with a small smile. "I meant to come looking for you!" Amorette cried as the girl helped Amorette to dress. "You've found work then?"

"In the very shop this dress came from Madam." The girl disappeared behind her to lace the bodice of the dress.

"You like the job?" The girl answered affirmatively and Amorette pondered for a few seconds. "Does it pay as well as Karlotta did?"

"No Madam," muttered the girl as she faced Amorette again. "It is a good job and I enjoy the work. It's given me more spare time, but I find that a bit odd, just sitting around doing nothing. I'd rather work longer and be paid more."

"That's settled then," said Amorette. Tomorrow is Sunday, so you will take the day off as you normally would. On Monday morning though I'd like you to report to my rooms at the Louvre. You will return to your position as ladies maid under me. Your friend, the other maid? You must fetch her to me too."

"Oh Madam she's not in Paris now. She left to return to her family in the country. But are you really sure Madam?" Amorette watched the girls beaming expectant face and nodded, a little happiness returning to her own features as the girl showed her delight.

"That's awfully kind of you Madam, I won't let you down." The girl scuttled away then, the dress firmly in place.

Amorette was secretly a little relieved that there was only one maid to cater for. It was true that she had meant to seek the two maids out after Karlotta's death to offer them work but it had slipped her mind. She didn't know how she was going to find work for one maid let alone two and was glad of the knowledge that the other girl had returned to her family. She would settle for trying to train Tilda for perhaps even a position as housekeeper somewhere. She had felt terrible for the two young women losing their positions. This was a worthwhile task for her to undertake. She heard the door slam shut sharply and stepped out from behind the screen. Buckingham and Tilda were no longer in her room. She assumed Tilda had been the source of the closing door and returned to the parlour to witness Buckingham hiding something within the lid of a little trinket box on the table. Amorette's stomach did a somersault. She had found it!

With an appraising look and a kiss to her cheek Buckingham bustled away to be about his business and Amorette was left alone in the lodgings. She gingerly approached the little trinket box and lifted the lid to find a large brass key resting there. "Finally," she muttered to herself.

"If I were you I'd hand that over and explain its use very quickly," came the gruff voice from behind her.

She turned to find that the four musketeers had not really left at all. They had been hiding somewhere out of sight. She clutched the key tightly in her sweaty palm as she gazed down the barrels of four pistols.

"Haven't we been here before?" she remarked. "Four armed men against one unarmed woman?"

Porthos, Aramis and D'artagnan lowered their pistols but they still seemed apprehensive of her and the key that she held. Athos kept his pistol pointed straight at her chest and held out a hand to take the key from her.

Amorette shook her head at him, a forlorn expression on her face. "Athos I cannot give you this key. It is of great importance."

"Just who is it you work for?" he growled. "Who is it that requests that you steal from Buckingham?"

"Oh you hair-brained fool!" Amorette cried indignantly. "Put a little trust in me for once in your life. I cannot tell you because I am forbidden from doing so. I made a promise not to speak of it and I stand by that promise. Don't you see; we are on the same side! I am no traitor to France Athos. I am not working with Buckingham. I was tasked to work against him to help womankind everywhere. He meddles and tricks and schemes every woman he meets and forces them to do his bidding. This key unlocks his powers over one such woman. I have the chance to free a poor woman who is trapped in a loveless marriage and cannot even so much as glance at the man she really loves without retribution!"

Amorette felt frustrated tears roll down her cheeks. D'artagnan cleared his throat swiftly and Amorette turned to look at him. What she saw there made her smile despite her tears. She had thought he might have picked up the thread of what she meant. She had told them the truth in a roundabout way but the other three still looked at her blankly. "You're working for the Queen aren't you?" D'artagnan asked with a satisfied smile growing on his face.

Amorette returned his smile. "Yes. I have been for quite some time now."

 _ **Did anyone see that coming? Amorette really is a woman's woman. She's an early feminist so I thought it only made sense to have her working for the Queen. She might be about to be introduced to a few home truths in the next chapter though. We may also be about to finally reach a certain moment between her and Athos, but will it pan out as expected? I actually envisioned it happening a lot sooner in terms of chapters but the story fleshed out so much it's felt like further and further away. I think it feels more real because of the issues they have both separately and together that it takes time to develop. Hopefully now Athos can stop pretending to hate Amorette and realise that she's actually just a nice person who wants to help people!**_


	23. Chapter 23

_**I only own Amorette.**_

The four men stared at her open mouthed for what felt like hours before Athos finally found his voice. "That's not possible."

"Why ever not?" Amorette asked. "The Queen has women on her flying squad."

"They only pass letters and the like," remarked Aramis. "They help spurned lovers keep their little intrigues secret and keep the Queen availed of the gossip of other courts."

"Is that really what you think?" Amorette turned to the marksman incredulously. "Of everyone I know Aramis; I'd have thought you'd have at least considered how detrimental women can be to the stability and productivity of a court. We are essential because no one suspects us; for exactly the reason that you are all staring at me right now as if I've gone mad. Haven't you connected the dots yet Athos? Two years ago you took me to the Louvre to spend a night there and you placed me in the rooms that were directly linked to the Queen's own apartments. She saw the firelight from underneath the door. She thought Buckingham may have returned to French court and couldn't resist checking. She came to my room and we talked. When she realised who I was and that I already knew Buckingham I think she saw an opportunity to recruit my services. Did you really think I went to Spain of my own accord?"

"You were the Madrid agent?" D'artagnan asked.

Amorette nodded. "The Madrid agent nearly died just weeks before you arrived back in Paris," said Porthos. "That's not possible."

Amorette gave him a grim smile. "It was just a flesh wound really," she lied.

Athos was unashamedly gaping at her and Amorette knew he must have been wondering how if it were all really true he had gotten it so wrong. "The letters that the Madrid agent recovered were drenched in their own blood. We saw them for ourselves Mademoiselle."

"So I bled a little more than I realised." Amorette shrugged as she began to grow tired of trying to get her point across. "Like I said it was just a flesh wound. I was well enough to be here within a few weeks and keep my sickly pallor hidden from plain sight. The flying squad do a lot more than just pass letters to and throw you know. Code-breaking, infiltrating select opposition groups and seducing men to get the answers they need are just some of the things that they do on a daily basis. Can you imagine my father's disgust and outrage when he realised that I was the agent in Madrid; that the daughter he thought a foolish spinster could infiltrate the Spanish court with ease. I've never been prouder of anything in my life."

"Is that what this is about?" Athos stepped forwards then, his pistol now hanging limply from his hand at his side. "You wanted to disgrace your father so you decided to play at being a spy?"

"Oh Athos I wasn't playing. And no, as a French subject I wished to help my Queen keep her crown. I wished I could tell you, you know. All of the times that you accused me of being a spy, I wanted to tell you the truth so that you would not think so little of me. The reality is that if you really did care about me in any way you would have given me the benefit of the doubt. You wouldn't have treated me so abominably for all to see and then perhaps you might have seen the clues for yourself and worked it all out sooner. I could never tell you the truth because I was sworn to secrecy and I do not break the confidences of my friends."

"So you aren't going to tell us what that key opens?" Aramis asked.

Amorette shook her head. "I wish I knew what the key opens. All that I knew was that I had to retrieve it. I don't know whether it opens a box or a door. All I know is that I must take it to _Dead man's End_."

"What would a key in a cemetery open?" Porthos queried with a stroke of his beard.

Amorette had already contemplated that theory. "I don't think it is a cemetery. I think it means something else, I just haven't worked out what yet."

The four musketeers were still regarding her curiously and Amorette thought that perhaps the scrutiny would last forever unless she ended it herself. "That one clue I had possession of never really seemed of any importance until now. I've been without the key that I was tasked to find, so knowing what it all really meant seemed so far off. Now that I have it I must figure out what to do with it. I guess my only option is to take it to the Queen if I cannot find _Dead man's End_."

"We'll go with you Mademoiselle," offered Aramis.

Amorette held up a hand even before he had stopped speaking. "You'll do no such thing. The Queen forbade me from speaking of any of this. I suppose it's a moot point because D'artagnan guessed what was truly going on but I must ask you all to keep what you know to yourself for now at least."

All four men still seemed a little astonished and Amorette felt even more squeamish now with those cold cobalt eyes shrewdly assessing her than she had a short while ago when her shoulder had been in tatters. She toyed with the material of her skirt nervously as she watched Athos deliberate. Porthos was the first to speak up. "If you don't know where that key leads Mademoiselle, then how is it safe to traipse of alone after whatever it is that you are to find? Shouldn't we be permitted to accompany you? The Queen surely wouldn't want to send her friend walking straight into danger?"

Amorette smiled at him in gratitude of his care, but her resolve didn't waver. "I swore I wouldn't speak of it. I pride myself on being a good friend and this is something I've been tasked to do alone. I understand your curiosity and I know it probably feels like you are all being shut out of some business that is rightfully yours but there's nothing I can do about that, I'm sorry."

Amorette was expecting more protestations but Athos spoke before anyone else could. "Let us leave the Cometess to her own business and that of the Queen's. We are intruding upon a serious matter, clearly. Madam knows that if she were to be in need of assistance, she may come upon us in all of the usual places." Whilst the others tipped their hats to her, uttered reluctant goodbyes and moved to leave, Athos remained before her with a long lingering look that she couldn't avoid. He was begging her to ask for his help in just that second but how could she when she knew next to nothing herself? She gave a curt shake of the head and turned away from him. A few seconds later she heard the door close behind him and she was left alone with only the gold key and her thoughts for company.

She almost cried out in pain when Claude threw herself forward and hugged her close. Amorette bit the inside of her mouth to stop sound escaping and only let a small wince grace her face as her friend clutched her tightly. "Oh I'm so happy to see you! I was so worried about you whilst you where away. I knew that Buckingham was trying to help you avoid the trail but I didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing."

Claude pulled back to observe Amorette carefully. "I think it was for the best," sighed Amorette. "I don't think I'd have been able to sit through it. It's not that I have trouble comprehending why he did what he did though. I called Franc a friend for many years. I'm still having a little trouble coming to terms with the fact that the young boy I once knew had all of this inside him even when we were young children."

Claude gently placed a finger underneath Amorette's chin and turned her head from side to side. "You look awfully pale you know! Are you sickening? Maybe you should go back to your rooms and I'll fetch a doctor to you as soon as I can!"

Amorette had been ready for that assault. She had caught her reflection in a mirror as she left Buckingham's lodgings and knew that her naturally pale skin had a greener tinge to it. "I'm fine Claude honestly. I'm just a little tired from the travel that's all." Amorette knew exactly how to get her overdramatic friend off the subject perfectly. "Do tell me what I've missed since I left? I'm eager to hear all of the news."

She was right. Claude beamed with the relish that could only be associated with the excitedness of a young woman at being the bearer of courtly gossip as yet unheard by the listener. She linked arms with Amorette and they strolled along the hallways of the Louvre for most of the morning. Most of the news that Claude had to tell meant not very much at all to Amorette but it was comforting in a strange way to hear of the embarrassing misfortunes of others and to put her own problems to the back of her mind. She laughed vicariously as Claude regaled her with her recent attempts to find a suitor for her niece. Claude's much older brother had sent his daughter to Paris and into the skilled arms of her aunt in the hopes that a husband could be snapped up. The daughter; Georgitte was a country girl like Amorette had once been with a father who had little in the way of patience when it came to matters of matrimony. Thus Georgitte had been whisked to Paris to her aunt who was delighted to interfere in the young woman's romantic life.

"So I hope you can stay with me until after luncheon?" Claude asked as she finished her tale. "I know there are some extremely eligible bachelors on their way into Paris as we speak. They are due to arrive later this afternoon and every mother and aunt in Paris will be throwing their girls into the paths of these men. Actually I'd appreciate the moral support Amorette. I know you think I'm overconfident and aloof but this is someone else's happiness I'm trying to achieve now."

Amorette wasn't sure that she wanted to witness what Claude was hinting at, but as her pretty blonde friend looked imploringly at her she felt that there was no choice in the matter. "Alright, I'll stay with you until they arrive but after that I think I'll have my own business to attend to." They spent most of the early afternoon lounging in Claude's rooms with her children and Georgitte. Although the spring sun shone brightly though the windows of the Louvre, the Jardin des Tuileries was still rather crisply cold and Amorette hadn't walked there since she had woken there in the dead of night when Franc had taken her from her room. It wasn't until she witnessed the Queen walking there from the window with her ladies that Amorette had any inclination to venture outside.

Leaving Claude behind in her rooms she scuttled off, coming upon the Queen just as she returned to the Palace. Stopping just feet from each other in the hallway, for a few moments there was still silence as both women simply gazed at the other. The Queen seemed to sense Amorette's secret urgency and sent her ladies back out into the gardens with a simple wave of her hand. Amorette's eyes darted into every corner of the hall but they were resolutely alone. Ascertaining that, she pulled the gold key from within her pockets and presented it to the Queen. In her mind Amorette hoped the Queen would take the key from her and make use of it herself but that thought was short lived. The queen plunged her hand into the depths of her own skirt pocket and produced a slip of crumpled paper. Striding forward she pressed the paper into Amorette's empty hand firmly and turned and walked briskly away. Amorette watched the Queen's retreat until she was just a dot of the colour of her dress amid the green lawns.

Despite a niggling curiosity to open up the crumpled paper, Amorette still felt apprehensive. The key could open anything and Amorette had no idea where she was being led to or what she would find when she got there. The crushing realisation came to her then that there was no way out of it now that she had the key. It was expected of her to go in search of the Queen's secrets and hope to come out of the other side safe and well. Not wanting to prolong her anxious thoughts Amorette almost tore the paper as she hurriedly opened it up and pressed it against her leg to smooth it out.

When she did, there was still no clear answer. Instead she found a riddle.

 _Buried though the past may be_

 _By the ocean or under tree_

 _Ne'er safe it shall truly be_

 _Whilst you and I hold the key._

 _There is a place where the past may dwell_

 _Hidden from sight but easy to see_

 _Old replaces the new and all is well_

 _Lovers too far gone from this world to plea._

 _Dead Man's End._

Amorette read the riddle a further three times, still not understanding what it meant at all. She watched the ladies with their parasols crossing the lawn, a gust of wind playing with the hems of their skirts as they gossiped and giggled. What on earth was she to do now? She would have to find the Queen and ask her again. She had no choice in the matter. A commotion from the end of the hall had her starting, but when she turned it was only to find Claude and Georgitte hurrying towards her. "Come now Amorette. We must be in the courtyard to welcome these young bachelors post haste. Every mother, aunt or sister will be there with their girls to thrust them into a man's way."

Amorette had little choice in that matter either. Claude gripped her arm tightly and dragged her along with them. Amorette shoved the key and the crumpled paper into her pocket again and prayed that this welcoming committee would not be in session for very long. Claude had been right about other women hoping to get in on the action for when they reached the courtyard they found half of Paris court milling about. The women pretended to be gossiping or taking in the scenery of the idyllic courtyard in the late afternoon sun but there was an undercurrent of tension radiating particularly from the mothers. They were here with one purpose alone and Amorette was suddenly sure that the arrival of these bachelors was a piece of information that had been stolen and banded about without the men's knowledge. Amorette felt an inkling of sympathy for the men who knew nothing of the audience that awaited their arrival.

When a four carriage succession began to emerge through the gates, the whispering around them intensified as mothers muttered last encouraging warnings and reminders to the young women. Amorette had expected a surge of activity when the carriages began to empty, but the women kept their places. Some gazed coquettishly from behind their fans and others twirled tendrils of loose hair around a finger in apparent absentmindedness. They were all trying to give an impression of aloofness but surely a man of any intelligence whatsoever would see straight through the acts.

Amorette only half listened to Claude as she pointed to each man in turn and recalled his name to Georgitte. "I wouldn't worry yourself with the first carriage load Georgitte," chittered her aunt. "They are the richest and most eligible of the group and therefore the most sought-after. It goes without saying though; if they approach you themselves with affections then make a play for them. Focus for now on the young Messieurs from the second carriage. No one will pay them much attention until they have been ignored or spurned by a man from the first carriage."

Amorette couldn't help the bark of laughter that escaped her lips. "Really Claude! They are human beings!" Amorette tugged on Georgitte's sleeve. "Speak with them all as you would a friend. If you grow to like any of them, then we can go from there, and by the way Claude, you've left one out! Who is the blonde man at the end?"

"We haven't time to delve deep for feelings Amorette! My brother has tasked me to secure his daughter a marriage prospect, not make her some friends! Come now Georgitte. We must take the upper hand whilst our fellow Mesdames dawdle." With that Claude set off at a brisk walk across the courtyard towards the gardens arm in arm with Georgitte. They walked with such direction and purpose that there was little chance that the men would not notice them. Amorette began to follow behind them with a smirk on her face as she realised that none of the other women had yet made a move. Within a few seconds though, they had all begun to stride out in much the same fashion. They were too late though as Claude and Georgitte had reached the first carriage where the men turned to smile at them and doffed their hats. Amorette couldn't help giggling at the audacity of her friend.

Much the same happened with the second carriage, but when they reached the third, the blonde Monsieur who Claude hadn't mentioned turned towards them. Amorette slowed her walk a little as she gazed at the man. He was not someone she would have normally regarded as handsome; with short dirty blonde hair swept to the side rather neatly and a meticulously trimmed Shakespearian beard. She thought there was something in him that reminded her a little of Buckingham, but that may have just been the lone pearl earning dangling from one ear and the upturned collar of his doublet. He was certainly striking and Amorette found that she couldn't take her eyes off him as she drew nearer. In her head, Amorette imagined him a rakish pirate with those devilish green eyes that were as green as the lawns ahead of them. She glanced down at his hands that clutched tightly onto a satchel and saw no wedding band present. She berated herself slightly for even looking, but suddenly he glanced up. He spared Claude and Georgitte a small smile and turned away but then his eyes met hers. This time he didn't look away quickly. Instead he held her gaze and smiled warmly at her. Amorette returned his smile with a gentle one of her own and kept walking. When she passed him she felt his eyes follow her and threw him a glance over her shoulder to find him still smiling.

Catching up to Claude she grabbed her friend's arm and turned her to face her. "Claude who is that blonde man?"

She watched as Claude glanced back towards where the men were now almost enveloped in a circle of the young girls and their mothers. "Oh he's not even worth mentioning! He has no familial connections and he hasn't many prospects as a suitable husband. He is watching you though!"

Amorette felt her impatience growing. "But who is he?"

Claude sighed and turned towards the gardens again. "His name is Fabien Desrosiers. He's a just a writer-"

" _The_ Fabien Desrosiers? The poet that everyone's talking about?" Amorette cried.

"Yes," Claude sighed, glancing back towards the courtyard again. "Hurry up because he's coming this way!" Claude linked arms with Amorette and together they walked on until they caught up with Georgitte. "Why you'd be interested though Amorette I don't know! You'll have no challenge for his affections I'm sure because no one wants to take the risk of a penniless writer!"

"He's not penniless, his books are everywhere and there's talk of his plays being taken on by the Paris theatres!" Amorette blurted out.

Claude sighed. "That may be true but next week he may well be penniless. These young writers are notorious for placing all of their eggs in one basket when it comes to money and work. They take chances and lose everything they have built for themselves on a whim. That's not the prospect you wish to see in a potential husband. Besides, he is the son of nobody in particular who will ramble on in sonnet form and speak in rhyming verse. How dull!"

Amorette couldn't help turning to look back every so often at the poet and his friends who were now following them out into the Jardin des Tuileries. By now other women had caught onto their scheme and were following suit. It was a scheme that was working and Amorette had to applaud Claude for her quick thinking. Walking past the men and catching their eye without stopping to talk seemed to have caught their interest. Reaching the long lawns Claude eventually slowed her step a little and it wasn't long before the first men reached them.

"Mesdames!" a young man called from just behind them. Coming up on Georgitte's side he grinned impishly at them and doffed his cap. Amorette watched Georgitte return the grin as the man introduced himself as Monsieur Léandre Vannier and with Claude in the middle she was left to feel the presence of another come upon her other side. When Amorette turned, she was met with the tanned blonde poet who could only have been a year or two older than herself.

Fabien Desrosiers was not what Amorette had expected at all. In her mind he had been much older, perhaps even a widowed old man pining for his dead lover in all of his writings. She thought that was why there was so much expression, mood and feeling in the poems that she had been poring over for the last few years. Before her though stood something else entirely. If Amorette had found him alluringly handsome before, then knowing now just who he was made those aspirations increase tenfold. He did not have the look of a poet in his clean cut appearance and fine but plain clothing. In fact, he looked almost regal. He looked like a prince who stole hearts. He was not what Amorette was usually attracted to. In fact, he was the complete opposite. In the past Amorette had favoured roguish looking men with dark hair and gentle eyes not unlike some musketeers that she knew. Where had those thoughts ever taken her though? Perhaps if she had looked elsewhere earlier on she would not still be alone and pining for someone who had up until that morning believed her capable of betraying her country. For that sole reason alone she dared to take his arm when he offered it to her.

They walked slowly together so that the others were soon far ahead of them upon the lawns and Amorette was glad Fabien did not rush their pace to catch up with his friend because she could see the trees in the distance where she had woken in the dead of night. Amorette had found it hard to believe the man before her was the poet that had everyone raving, but as soon as he started to speak, she knew that he was indeed the man in question. His voice was almost otherworldly to Amorette and she drank in everything he said greedily. When she spoke of her love of Fabien's work he seemed a little sheepish though. He was modest and grateful for her praise which Amorette found endearing. His intelligence and depth of feeling though was something that Amorette had truly expected to find if she had ever met the man behind the words. He was so eloquent both in speech and movement that Amorette's own education felt inadequate.

When Amorette looked into Fabien's eyes though, he was somewhat of a conundrum. There was something more there that was yet to be discovered, almost as if he had not reached his peak yet. The thoughts of riddles brought Amorette's hand to fist around the crumpled paper in her pocket. Feeling her nerves jarring a little she dared to slip it from her pocket and present it to him. Fabien read the riddle ineffectually and turned to look at her curiously. "Someone has presented me with this Monsieur, and I'm not quite sure what to make of it. Perhaps you should be the one to guide me to its meaning?"

Fabien raised his eyebrows as he glanced to the riddle and back to Amorette. "Well Cometess I must say I am shocked to find you in possession of such a thing if indeed someone procured it with the intention of giving it to you! Who on earth would give a pretty Mademoiselle like yourself such a morbid piece?"

"I…It was a friend," she stammered. "I believe they had trouble deciphering its meaning and wanted me to help."

"Well," said Fabien, "Tell me what you make of it so far Cometess and I will tell you if I believe you are upon the right track."

"Please call me Amorette," she said with a light touch to his arm. She looked towards the paper again and began to read aloud, but Fabien stopped her with a small wave of his hand.

"Mademoiselle Amorette, you must think of a riddle as many pieces of a puzzle. It is not one clue but many. Take each line separately and develop your perception of it that way." Fabien stopped their pace completely and turned to face her where they stood.

Amorette wasn't sure why, but she thought perhaps that Fabien sensed her urgency to find the answer to the riddle she held in her hands. She stood silently, with Fabien blocking the glare of the sun from her eyes and read the riddle through again slowly and carefully. "So…" Amorette mused after a few seconds. "Something that was once buried may be found again. It's there to be found if really looked for, but may be missed otherwise?" Fabien nodded his encouragement. "But to do so you must have a key?"

"Is the key not more of a metaphor though Mademoiselle?" Fabien asked as he regarded her shrewdly. "This really is of great importance to you isn't it?"

Amorette didn't know how to answer the clearly highly intelligent man who had sensed her urgency and worry all in the space of a few moments. "If I say that it is, is that enough of an answer for you Monsieur? I have no other answer that I am permitted to give and I do not wish to lie to you."

With a gentle hand gripping her elbow Fabien nodded. "Forget the matter of the key Mademoiselle. Think on the last few lines of the riddle. Tell me what your first thought was when you read them?"

"Well, the last line is something that I had in my head long before the rest of the riddle. It made me think perhaps of a cemetery but now I'm not so sure."

Fabien smiled gently. "I think Mademoiselle that you are upon the right track then."

"Can you be sure though?" Amorette asked.

"Mademoiselle I am very sure because I wrote that riddle."

"What?" Amorette cried. "Why did you not say so?"

Fabien pressed her elbow more firmly. "It seemed important to you to interpret the riddle Mademoiselle Amorette. I didn't wish to intrude upon that as each person may interpret a piece of writing very differently. I've travelled the world and written many pieces that were influenced by where I was and the people that I met there. A poem or riddle may appear in different form if read in a different place. I wasn't sure my influence would help you in any way. But go back to that last line that so struck you Mademoiselle."

Amorette immediately sensed his hint. "Where did you write this riddle Monsieur Desrosiers?"

He was now gripping both of her elbows and his expression told Amorette that her mind had gone where he intended it to. "Here in Paris of course!"

"So… _Dead Man's End_ may mean a different thing in each part of the world." Amorette clutched the paper tightly, sure now of the answer. "Here in Paris dead man's end does not mean a cemetery as I first thought because after a certain amount of years has passed, to combat the overcrowding of the graves the bones are dug up and rather morbidly moved to the catacombs. The catacombs are a place that no one wishes to really think of but the gates are there for all of us to see if we look for them."

Fabien beamed at her as her theory was confirmed. Releasing her elbows he reached inside his doublet and produced a small leather-bound book. "This is my latest work that's just been published. Turn to page seventeen."

Amorette took the small book from him and turned it over in her hands. "I've been traveling through England and Scotland recently and your books are still prohibited there. I only arrived back this morning and that's why I haven't got a copy of this! If only I had, I might have figured it all out sooner!" She flipped through the pages until she came upon page seventeen. There was her riddle in print form, and emblazoned across the top of the page was the tittle, _Upon the Catacombs_.

Someone called Fabien's name from nearby and his head jerked up, his gaze leaving Amorette's. "I'm sorry to cut our talk short Mademoiselle but I have a meeting to attend with a friend of mine. You should keep the book." He smiled at her gently, squeezed her elbow and turned to leave but stopped to glance back at her. "Have dinner with me tomorrow night? Just you and I?"

For a few seconds Amorette's mouth opened a fraction in shock at his blatant proposition. Dinner alone with a member of the opposite sex was a mark of the beginning of courtship where Amorette was concerned. Her apparent shock seemed to amuse Fabien and he chuckled lightly. Something within his voice, a deep vibrant energy and promise had her nodding suddenly before she had really considered it all. "I…Yes. Yes I will."

With a triumphant smile Fabien Desrosiers left her to follow his friend and she clutched the book tightly in her hand. With the other she felt for the key in her pocket as she realised that her next step was to enter the catacombs. It was certainly a frightening prospect. Amorette had never stepped foot there, like most other courtiers. It was considered unhealthy and slightly unhinged to have a wish to view the Paris dead of long ago but Amorette supposed it fitted well that something so precious would be hidden there. The question was, just how hard would it be to find?

She ambled back towards the courtyard without even saying goodbye to Claude and Georgitte as she pondered just how to go about finding her charge alone? She wished now more than ever that she could speak of what she knew. She had been forbidden from speaking aloud the place where the key would find its home but she considered the fact that no mention had been made of the riddle. Decision made. D'artagnan was the first musketeer she encountered upon the stairs in the entrance hall. Her hurried heels clicking as she rushed towards him had the musketeer staring quizzically at her, but she didn't give him a chance to question her. Instead she thrust the book at him and the crumpled paper. "I swore not to reveal the location that may be discovered with the key, but I believe you should look for this riddle within this poetry book." With those simple instructions Amorette left a bewildered D'artagnan calling to her as she rushed back outside.

The gates of the catacombs were closed but not locked, and Amorette felt her heart rate increase tenfold as the creek and clang of the iron gates reverberated around the empty street. Torches lit along the walls illuminated a steep staircase that seemed to go on forever. As Amorette began to make her way down, she felt that the tunnel was almost like a vacuum, sucking all sound and feeling from the world. At length the stairs ended and Amorette found herself at the end of a long tunnel. Doors lined either side of the walls and she realised that these were family vaults and crypts that had been purchased by the wealthier inhabitants of Paris who wished to bypass the burial in a cemetery and subsequent removal.

D'artagnan burst through Captain Treville's office door where he found his three friends seated around their captain's desk. Out of breath, with a reddened expression it was clear to them all that he had been in a hurry to reach them.

"What is it?" Athos asked, apprehension clear in his tone.

"D _ead Man's end_!" D'artagnan gasped out as he thrust the book at Athos.

He watched his mentor scan the page of the poetry book and watched his eyes widen. " _Dead man's End_ is the catacombs?"

"Are we really letting the Cometess go all the way down to the catacombs all on her own?" asked Porthos.

"No," muttered Athos. "No, we are not."

Treville stood from behind his desk. "Go now. I'll have your posts manned."

The thought made bile rise in her throat, but Amorette knew she had to use her key to try every door. No door in that tunnel could be opened however. Amorette took a turn at the end and sucked in a breath. She was in the real heart of the catacombs now. Large alcoves in the walls of the tunnels were filed with the bones of the dead and Amorette rushed on, trying her best not to spare it all more than a glance in respect of the long dead. She walked on and on, taking tunnel after tunnel but found no more doors that could be opened with a key. At length she let her feet come to a stop at a junction of six different tunnels. Amorette spun on the spot, observing each tunnel as she did so. She spun again, noting that all bar one looked identical. The one tunnel that showed difference was in fact shrouded in darkness. The others were lit by torches but Amorette had an inkling that what she was here to find would certainly be hidden in that particular tunnel. Amorette glanced behind her towards the other tunnels and a startling realisation hit her that she no longer knew which tunnel had led her to this spot in the first place. She was completely lost. Even if she came across what she was here for how on earth was she to get back out? She knew these tunnels were endless, running deep and far under the city. She could very well be beyond the city gates now for all that she knew. That dark tunnel still called to her, and Amorette knew it made more sense to keep moving and find the precious piece and then discover her way out.

She moved towards one of the torches upon the wall and reached for it, realising as she did so that it was far out of her reach. Amorette jumped from the floor, her arm stretching into the air towards the torch but her fingertips barely skimmed the wall bracket it was held in before her feet landed upon the floor again. She released a disappointed sigh as she contemplated trying to find her way in the darkness of the eerie tunnel.

Suddenly from behind her a leather clad arm reached up and slipped the torch from its bracket. Amorette gasped and spun around to find Athos looming over her, torch now in hand. A small smirk graced his face and Amorette was sure that in his mind he was mocking her lack of height. "That's not even funny!" she snarled and stomped off towards the dark tunnel.

The light of the torch illuminated the tunnel which seemed to curve round towards its end. For a few moments they walked in silence before Athos spoke. "Are you going to tell me what it is that you are looking for here? I know you are trying to give the impression that you know nothing, but surely you would not be sent here without an agenda."

"I know what it is I'm searching for and I know why. If we find it I'll tell you Athos. If we don't, the secret must remain so." Amorette began to try the key in each door that she passed as she spoke. "Surely you can understand that I cannot disclose what I know and break the Queen's trust in me if I have not even succeeded in what she has asked me to do. There may be further developments and others knowing the details may hinder any future success in the matter."

Athos didn't reply and Amorette moved on, trying each door that they passed. When the tunnel reached its end Amorette drew in a breath. She hoped that when she placed the key in the lock of the very last door that it would turn, and it did. She and Athos shared an apprehensive look before Amorette pushed the door open and they were met with the sight of a large vault. Alcoves around the wall were lined with barrels and Athos immediately broke the wood of one with his dagger. Peering inside the hole he had created his head suddenly jerked up. "Gunpowder! Mademoiselle I do not like this. Find what you are here for and let's leave." Amorette moved towards the table in the middle of the room that was covered with a thick velvet material. Coins and gems littered the velvety surface. Gold, silver and bronze trinkets glinted in the dense torchlight and Amorette scanned the area in search of what she had come all this way for. Athos moved towards her and lifted a small coin from the table. "Portuguese gold? That's not something that is common in France at all! It's been at least five years since I've seen one of these."

Amorette shook her head. "Who do we know that spent time in Portugal before their return to Paris?"

"Buckingham?" Athos questioned.

"Yes, but it's not widely known. Things about Buckingham only ever seem of importance to anyone if he tries to hide it though. As far as I'm aware he was visiting their court as he does all over Christendom."

"But Portuguese gold will do him no good in Paris," remarked Athos. "No one will touch it. Why would he bring so much of it back with him? It makes no sense."

"I don't know, but the man has a reason for everyth-" A sharp scuffing sound from outside in the tunnel had them both stopping in their tracks.

"It's probably just Porthos, Aramis or D'artagnan. We split up to try and find you Mademoiselle. I'll go and check. Hurry and find your charge."

Amorette took the torch from him and watched Athos retreat into the gloom of the tunnel again. Amorette pulled her attention back to the table before her and moved around it in search of her item. She ran her hands over the coins and gems to move them out of the way until she came across a large diamond necklace that she had seen the likeness of many months before. She scooped it up into her hand and felt the cold silver of the chain press against her palm. She retreated into the tunnel after Athos and looked around her, but there was only her old friend to be seen. "Where are the others?"

Athos shook his head, a worry etching his features. "I don't know. Let's get away from that gunpowder." Athos took the torch from her and traced his way back along the tunnel the way they had come. Amorette followed behind, not sure if Athos would be any better equipped than she was to find the way out. She almost walked into the back of him when he suddenly stopped in the entrance of the tunnel. "Can you smell that Amorette?" Amorette sniffed the air around her, the smell of sulphur drifting into her nostrils. Athos was gazing at her over his shoulder and when realisation marred her features he took her small hand in his rather large one. "Run!"

In that second they had both come to the conclusion that these tunnels were more than likely all lined with gunpowder and someone had lit a fuse. They tore through tunnel after tunnel, Athos dropping the torch when they left the darkness behind. They reached a fork in the road and stopped to look about them. "Isn't this the way out?" Amorette asked mildly as she slipped her hand from his and ventured a few feet down another tunnel. Suddenly something changed within the air, a strange rumbling sound reaching their ears. The last thing Amorette heard was Athos growling her name before she was lifted from her feet and thrown backwards in a cloud of thick grey dust and smoke.

 _ **I don't think the catacombs were around in 1630's Paris, but they were for the purpose of this story ;)**_


	24. Chapter 24

_**So I know I said that a certain moment might happen in the last chapter, I didn't realise how carried I'd get away with writing these chapters. What was supposed to be one chapter is now 15000 words and three chapters!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Muffled shuffling and shouts ensued from within the tunnels as three musketeers paced the floor in search of their friends. When Aramis came upon an atrium of adjoining tunnels he found Athos beginning to stir where he lay, a thin coat of grey dust coating his face and hair. Ascertaining that his friend was regaining consciousness and on the whole, relatively unharmed Aramis then strained his eyes to look into the still gloominess of the tunnels in search of Amorette. Despite the still floating dust that cast a translucent sheen over his eyes Aramis could just make out two blue heeled slippers and the hem of a thick skirt.

Reaching a face down Amorette he rolled her over onto her back and found her still unconscious. "Porthos!" Aramis called back to his friend who was helping Athos to his feet, "Get him up! Get him up and get him out! This place could cave in at any moment!" Swiftly he pulled Amorette into a sitting position and threw her over his shoulder and began to move through the tunnels as quickly as he could.

As Amorette came around she vaguely noticed that she was hanging upside down. A firm arm clamped around her waist and a familiar voice close at hand told her that Aramis was carrying her over his shoulder. Just as she opened her eyes a fraction, a cloud of dust erupted around her and a large stone fell from the celling to collide with the wall. She heard Porthos growl nearby and closed her eyes again to combat the nausea that Aramis' jostling shoulder caused. Suddenly she felt cool air gently ruffle some of her loosened curls and opened her eyes again to blink harshly at the early evening sunshine.

Aramis gently slipped Amorette from his shoulders to sit on the ground in the deserted street. The marksman bent over, catching his breath as did Porthos and Athos a few feet away. Amorette saw that she and Athos were not the only ones covered in a light sheet of dust, they all were. D'artagnan emerged from the tunnels a few seconds later and he began to shake the dust from his hair. Amorette greedily sucked in clean air and began to cough and splutter as her tightly drawn corset prevented the dust from leaving her airways. Aramis gently clapped her on the back and muttered "Bloody corsets."

"We should get off this street; we're causing quite the scene!" D'artagnan announced with a nod towards the end of the deserted street, where a crowd had begun to gather. The sight of two Red Guards making their way through the throng of people had all of the musketeers jumping to their feet. Aramis helped Amorette up and kept a hand on her shoulder to steady her as they cut down a side street away from the tunnels. As they turned a corner and made for Les Halles Amorette braved a glance towards Athos who walked beside her and found him already gazing at her intently. She offered him a weak smile in return and looked away. As she did so, she felt his large calloused hand take a hold of her smaller one.

In the yard outside D'artagnan and Constance's lodgings they shook off most of the dust from their clothes and hair and crowded into the small parlour. Amorette gulped down a glass of water quickly, still feeling grit at the back of her throat. They sat around the small table in silence for a few moments as they took in what had just happened. Amorette's breathing slowly returned to normal and she turned her attention to the pockets of her dress. Finding everything but what she was actually looking for, she worriedly looked to Athos. "I must have dropped the necklace! It's not here!"

"Going back down to the catacombs is not even in question now," he mumbled in reply. Amorette ran a shaky hand over her face as she contemplated just what she was going to tell the Queen.

"Is this what you were looking for?" D'artagnan called from where he leaned against the doorway. On his outstretched finger swung the diamond necklace. Amorette felt her shoulders sag as she let out a very audible sigh of relief. D'artagnan moved forward and handed her the necklace. "I found it down in the tunnel and figured it must have been of some importance."

Amorette grabbed his hand tightly. "Thank you! You cannot fathom how important it is."

"Is that what I think it is?" asked Porthos from beside her.

Amorette gave him a curt nod. "Yes. I'd say that it is." She glanced down at the necklace in her hand that had been stolen from the Queen many years ago and felt a surge of pride that she would be the one to return it to its rightful owner.

"How can we be sure it's real though?" queried Aramis. "There have been a few fakes that have surfaced over the years."

"It should feel cold to the touch even after being held for a time," said Athos.

Amorette let the diamonds rest against her skin but they didn't begin to warm with her body heat. They remained cool and their authenticity was confirmed. Something stirred within Amorette's memory. She had held a replica of that very necklace in her hands months ago, but she had thought it to be a fake. So why had it too felt cold to the touch? She shook the thought from her mind. "I need to take this to the Queen."

They were ushered into the Queen's rooms without any hesitance whatsoever and Amorette knew that she at least was expected there. She hadn't felt right in refusing to allow the musketeers to accompany her when they had saved her life and in effect helped recover the necklace but she wasn't sure how the Queen would react to their presence. From the back of the group Amorette was surprised to see the Queen looking pleased and expectant to see Aramis but when she stepped into view herself, a worried disappointment washed over the Queen's features.

Amorette put it down to the fact that they all still looked a little worse for wear. Still seated on a couch, the Queen took a moment to appraise Amorette's appearance before turning her attention to Aramis. "To what do I owe this pleasure of seeing your very dusty selves? I hope you all shook yourselves thoroughly on your way in!" The Queen laughed at her own little joke but no one else did. Amorette knew her own nerves were frayed but when she caught sight of Aramis' expression she realised this wasn't going to be a simple handover.

With concise precision Aramis related what had happened down in the catacombs whilst Amorette lowered herself into a chair. "You do know," remarked Aramis when he had finished his explanation, "That you could have come to us with this your Majesty. We have I hope proven ourselves trustworthy over the years in matters not unlike this. I do wonder why you sent the Cometess alone on such an errand when such danger was at hand."

"I did not know such danger was at hand!" cried the Queen. "Who could have known that Buckingham had such a scheme in place?"

"We don't know that it was Buckingham!" Amorette muttered rather tiredly. "Frankly it doesn't strike me as his style. I had thought the vault might have been his but the gunpowder? No he's too clever for that. He knows things like that may be traced back to him."

"Who else could it have been?" Athos asked as he turned to Amorette.

Amorette shook her head meekly, keen now to hand the necklace over and make her way to her own rooms. "Whoever it was, the evidence has been blown to pieces now. We have no way of knowing just who it was who orchestrated it all."

The Queen let out a long sigh as D'artagnan approached her with the necklace. "You may all leave now. I'll have the Red Guard captain arrest the Duke of Buckingham nevertheless. Clearly this is his doing."

Amorette turned towards the other woman in apprehension. Something within the Queen's voice sounded off and she realised that she wasn't the only one to hear it. D'artagnan hesitated in his presenting of the necklace. It was indeed strange that the Queen who Amorette had thought caring and sweet had yet to ask after their welfare after they were almost blown up.

"Buckingham was right about you wasn't he?" Amorette tested. "You would still pin a crime upon him with no evidence to prove the fact. He told me just once that one day you would bring about his downfall and I remembered that single statement. This was never about getting that necklace back. I wasn't meant to come out of those catacombs alive!"

The Queen's nostrils flared dangerously and she made a grab for the necklace that still rested in D'artagnan's hands. He was too quick for her though and he took a step backwards, turning to throw the necklace to Amorette as he did so. The room descended into chaos rather quickly after that. Porthos shook his head in confusion whilst Athos and Aramis voiced their protestations. "Let's hand the necklace over and call it a night!" Athos cried. "We can discuss this tomorrow with clearer heads. We've all had a trying day."

Athos simply raised his eyebrows at Amorette expectantly but made no move towards her. It was Aramis that began to approach her with his arms outstretched. D'artagnan dived between them both with his arms outstretched. "Aramis I think we should hear the Cometess out."

"What is there to hear?" Athos asked incredulously.

"Hurry up and explain your theory would you?" D'artagnan urged Amorette. "I don't really want to have to fight my three friends over a necklace."

"What on earth is going on?" cried Constance who had just bustled into the room. Amorette was sure that it was a strange sight to behold with D'artagnan in front of her in a protective stance whilst the others looked on accusingly.

"It's expected that Aramis would be bias, given his history with the Queen but you Athos," gasped Amorette, "You of all people I thought would have been able to see through all of this! You said yourself that Buckingham had no business with Portuguese gold. D'artagnan sees that something is amiss! Sharp as ever little one!" The last statement was aimed at D'artagnan and he smiled gently at her but it didn't reach his eyes. He knew that something was up, and that there was a lie in the Queen's voice but Amorette questioned whether he realised the severity of the plot.

Amorette stared at Athos, hoping he would see the truth in her eyes but he looked bewildered. He released a heavy sigh and looked towards the Queen but Amorette saw his resolve waver a little. The Queen was glaring at Amorette with such hate and scorn as had never been seen upon her face before and that seemed to sway the balance. "Cometess, tell us what this all is about and be quick about it!"

"As you already know, this all started long ago with the stealing of this necklace." Amorette dangled the necklace from her wrist and watched the light of the setting sun beyond the windows create marvellous patterns and colours within the stones. "For all I know, the necklace really was stolen by Buckingham. I will not dispute that matter. There is however something I must admit to you all. That day when you stopped me in the street and attempted to search my basket of undergarments fresh from the milliners you failed to find something buried within the folds of fabric. Along with the garments that I was tasked to collect, I also took possession of a fake necklace that was made to closely resemble the one I now hold in my hands. I always did believe that necklace to be a fake until something that you Athos said a little while ago made me think otherwise.

You said that real stones feel cold to the touch even after they have been held in a warm hand. That day I collected not a fake but the real string of diamonds. I retrieved it and brought it here as I was tasked. I thought no more of it. But now we must ask why I was told it was a fake? If indeed the necklace was really stolen in the first instance it was recovered shortly afterwards and hidden away as an insurance policy. Our Queen knew that she could use it to incriminate anyone who crossed her. I was sent to collect the 'fake' so that there could be no question about the whereabouts of the real piece and that it would be considered lost. So when the time came for me to recover the real necklace, I would automatically assume an enemy of the Queen had hidden it within those catacombs and go to retrieve it as I had been tasked to do. But as I said, I was never meant to come back out alive!"

"This is ludicrous!" snarled the Queen. "Why on earth would I do such things?" Her voice was too high pitched to sound truthful and Porthos exchanged a now knowing glance with D'artagnan. She even saw a flicker of recognition in Athos' eyes but Aramis still remained confused.

"An insurance policy," Amorette continued. "Which was put to use. Your majesty needed to be rid of the one person in Paris who knows all of your secrets. You had the necklace and the gunpowder planted in the catacombs to lie in wait for me. That's why you made me go alone, and why you planted the Portuguese gold! Your brother is king of Spain a _nd_ Portugal is he not? You wouldn't even have aroused suspicion in asking for the gold to frame Buckingham for my death and kill two birds with one stone!"

"What secrets are you talking about Amorette?" Constance cried. "What good reason could she have for wanting you killed?"

Amorette sighed as she realised just what secrets she did hold. "Happy and ignorant Constance, do not feel hard done by. She truly does see you as a friend and converses with you upon matters of the heart, but the secrets I keep are matters of a very clever and cunning mind!"

"Do not dare to speak of such things!" roared the Queen as she jumped to her feet. The look she threw Amorette was enough to confirm everything.

"My God, it's true isn't it?" muttered Aramis as he stepped back from where he had stood at the Queen's side. "You sent her down to those tunnels to kill her over some damned affair?" He ran a shaking hand though his dark hair and strode to the window away from them all.

"Why should I not tell them your majesty?" Amorette walked around the room so that she knew Aramis would hear her. "They are five of your most trusted allies! They deserve to know the truth about your scheme. There is no sordid affair this time but something much greater Aramis! This is about Henry Fitzgerald! France and Scotland are allies, but this Queen wishes to render that allegiance void. Your actions were all for Spain. Acting upon your orders in Madrid I ensured the safe passage of certain letters, but there were other letters that did not reach their destination weren't there? Letters you sent that never surfaced. You see, When I discovered the letters both you and Henry Fitzgerald had sent to Spanish dignitaries I had no choice but to destroy them. There were men there who worked for my father and they would have made those letters public in no time. When the king found out the contents of those letters he would have tried you for treason!"

"If you knew for all that time then why did you not say anything?" Athos asked.

"I wanted to prove my worth! Yes I was a spy of sorts in the Spanish court but I was also your friend your Majesty. I knew the secrets of those letters had to stay hidden to save your life so I never breathed a word for feat that someone would overhear." A sudden thought struck Amorette. "That's why those Red Guards shot at us this morning isn't it? Not because they misunderstood Buckingham's orders but because you gave different ones. You tried to have me killed twice today! I can only imagine the turmoil you felt when you heard that I was in the company of Henry Fitzgerald! You thought I was about to endanger you and spill all your secrets! Do you really think I would do that? I thought we were friends!"

The Queen looked grief-stricken. She had not known that Amorette had known about her letters to Spain for all that time. Amorette let out a breath and took a seat, suddenly tired of the whole game. She had said her piece and proved that she was France's woman through and through. She would never have betrayed her Queen and now the Queen herself knew it.

Aramis strode back into the middle of the room towards the Queen. "Forgive me your Majesty, but the Cometess has been nothing but a friend to you! Even before all of this came to light we knew that! You threw her to the wolves twice today for no need. If that's how you treat your friends…" he trailed off in disgust and shook his head.

Porthos took the silence as his chance to speak, "How did Buckingham come to have the key Mademoiselle? We all, including yourself saw him place that key in that box."

Amorette nodded, trying to knot the threads together in her head as she spoke. "Yes, we all did see him leave the key. I think it was given to Henry Fitzgerald. He wants Buckingham brought to his knees just as much as the next person so it wouldn't have been hard to persuade him to hand over the key to Buckingham. It must have happened after I left them on the quay this morning. I've no idea what Henry will have told Buckingham it was for but it certainly worked. I doubt Henry knew that I was to be a victim of the scheme. If so he would have warned me. I don't think Buckingham did either. He's no fool so I'm sure he knew that the key could potentially incriminate him but I think, like everyone else he believed that the Queen would not harm one of her friends so readily.

I was lost down in those tunnels when you found me Athos! Even if I had found the necklace I did not know my way back out! I'm greatly indebted to you all!" Amorette moved swiftly then and kissed first D'artagnan and then Porthos on the cheek. They acknowledged her thanks with a warm, if slightly confused smile. She kissed Aramis too, but he was still too shocked by the revelations to consider it. When she reached Athos and kissed his cheek, he grabbed her hand and clutched it tightly, hidden by the materials of her skirt. Amorette didn't realise how much she needed the gesture until it was there and something passed between their eyes as she pulled away. She turned back to the Queen to deliver her final blow. "You would have succeeded today without the interference of the musketeers. You almost blew us all to bits today! I hope you're happy that you put four men in inconceivable danger when they have done nothing but serve and protect you. I hope in time they all come to understand your desperation. You were frightened and worried. You thought your own life to be in danger and so you reacted hastily. You could have spoken with me on the subject and I'd have absolved your fears. You and I both know what it's like to be a woman in this world and I'm trying my very best not to blame you for what happened. I think I cannot respect you so much as I did though. I will leave your service with immediate effect. You can rest assured these and any other secrets I will take to my grave with me, I have proven that much. Do not ask any more of me though. I wish for no more involvement in plots and schemes. If you so wish I will even leave court. You were the sole reason I returned to Paris and now that I am no longer your agent I have no care for staying." Amorette almost grimaced at the lie, but dared not look towards Athos. It would pain her to leave him again but she needed to be realistic. He was never going to see her as she wanted him to so leaving would not really change their relationship in that regard. "The only thing that truly does pain me is the loss of your friendship." With that Amorette strode forward and deposited the necklace into the Queen's hand and scurried from the room.

Amorette's own rooms were east facing and as the sun set in the west her rooms were already shrouded in a dull twilight. Someone had already been in to light the fire and she sat, staring into it for longer than she knew. She ignored the gentle knock on the outer door, not really paying much heed to who it could have been. When another knock came, this time on her bedroom door Amorette ignored that too. At length the door creaked open and Amorette looked up to see Athos closing the door behind him.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he moved towards her.

Amorette didn't answer him because she didn't think she had any answer to give. She glanced at him and then back towards the fire with a shrug. "It doesn't matter whether I am or not," she said after a few seconds. "What's happened cannot be changed. I simply need to re-evaluate the trust I place in people." She turned to him with a smile and tried to make a joke of it but he didn't return the gesture.

He moved further into the room and took a seat on the couch that sat at the end of the bed. "Perhaps you should take more care of the situations that you get yourself into. You say that you knew when you were in Spain that the Queen was committing what would be seen as treason to France but still followed orders that inadvertently put you in danger. You always were very trusting but that is no fault of yours. It's the fault of others when they take advantage of your friendship."

Sitting in the chair by the fire, Amorette had to turn in her seat to look at him. "I suppose you're feeling a little smug aren't you? I know I'm no traitor but I did keep a lot to myself. I suppose I was a spy in some ways so that means you were right all along. I didn't want to lie to you or keep things from you Athos. I wanted to tell you the truth but I made a promise to a friend. If you had asked something of me I'd have done the same because that's who I am. I guess I got a little caught up in the whole idea of helping and supporting other women."

"I wasn't right, was I?" he said as he unhooked his pistol brace and let it fall to the couch. He also unhooked his sword from his belt and let it slide to the floor. "I accused you of terrible things that in hindsight I know and always did know that you weren't capable of. You thought you were doing the right thing and there's nothing wrong in that. I did know that something was different about you, that you were up to something. I think we can say I know you well enough to know when something is contrived and planned. All of these fancy dresses and hats were the first sign. In the very beginning I thought perhaps you were just a mistress being thought nice things. I made myself think that because I supposed that it was the lesser of two evils. I didn't want to think that you were acting against France but I couldn't help the thoughts in my head. For that I'm sorry!"

The frosty air that had always been between them seemed to dispel then and Amorette let herself sag back into the chair. She began to pull at the pins that held what was left of her hairstyle in place. She let her hair fall loose down her back and couldn't wait for the moment to crawl into her bed and sleep. She stood up to put her pins in a little trinket box and turned to find that Athos had taken his doublet off and was stretching out on the couch. "Athos, what are you doing?"

"Making myself comfortable," he said with no emotion. When Amorette gaped at him with her mouth open he sat up again. "Do you really expect me to leave you alone after what just happened?"

"Athos," she sighed. "The Queen is angry now, but she will come to her senses soon enough. She knows that I pose no threat to her, so she is no threat to me. We may not become fast friends again but I think she will have no choice now but to respect the fact that I keep her secrets. You don't need to stay with me."

"Even so, I feel that I owe it to you. For my treatment of you I feel terrible." He pushed his pistol brace onto the floor to lie with his sword.

"I could call a maid or Constance…"

He threw her a stern look. "Amorette, I'm staying with you. It's settled. Besides you shouldn't be alone, what with your shoulder and you might have hit your head down in those catacombs. I'm not leaving your presence."

Amorette sighed indignantly and picked up a shawl. Moving behind the screen she resigned herself to a night in his company. If she changed for bed and went to sleep as quickly as possible, it would be over sooner. She hung the shawl over the screen and began to pull at the bodice of her dress. Her shoulder gave a sharp twinge as she pulled it free of the sleeve and she let out a gasp. The stiff new material of the dress had prevented too much movement of her arm but when she slipped the strap of her corset off, the pain increased tenfold. She let out a small strangled cry of frustration when she tried to pull the laces of her corset free and couldn't pull her arm back far enough. "Damn it!"

"Is everything alright?" Athos called from the couch.

Amorette inwardly grimaced. She could call a maid to help, but if he wasn't leaving her side that was not a plausible option. She didn't want people talking, which was sure to happen. Claude was also out of the question for that same reason. Constance wouldn't speak of it to anyone else but she would bring it up again to Amorette and she couldn't bare that. She bit her bottom lip as she contemplated sleeping in her corset. Who was she kidding? She'd suffocate if she tried that. She knew she would have to swallow her pride. Trying for the most nonchalant tone she could muster she called to him, "Athos could you help? I can't undo my stays with one arm?"

He gave no verbal reply but she heard his booted feet make their way slowly towards the screen. He came up behind her and without a word he began to pull gently on the laces. He did it with such a quick fluid movement that she knew he had done it before countless times. She had to prevent a shudder when she remembered that had been with her sister Ann, and she had been his wife. The lower down her back his fingers moved, the further apart the two sides of the corset moved, meaning that every so often Amorette felt his fingers just glancing against her skin. She felt helpless with one hand holding her long hair out of the way and the other arm wrapped just under her breasts to stop the front of the corset falling away completely. When he had finished Amorette felt the corset loosen completely and she heard him begin to walk away. "Thank you!" she called over her shoulder to him. She changed into a long sleeved nightdress with a high neckline and wrapped the shawl tightly around her shoulders. Peering out from behind the screen she saw him resting again on the couch. She made a run for the bed, diving in and pulling the covers up to her neck.

 _ **So when I wrote this chapter and the next I wrote them all as one chapter thinking it would be short enough for one, but it wasn't. The break between chapters is just pretty random. This scene just beginning with Amorette and Athos together is the single scene I had in my head at the beginning and why I wrote this whole story in the first place so maybe that's why I wasn't able to stop myself from adding bits until it was perfect in my eyes. As much as I want to hate the Queen after this chapter it isn't really possible. She is a good person, but I think she was frightened as Amorette said and got a little carried away.**_


	25. Chapter 25

_**I feel a bit evil for not updating quickly after the end of the last chapter! I was away last weekend though and have only just had the chance to sit down and write some more. Tonight's episode of The Musketeers has been rescheduled so I'm using that time wisely!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette. I apologise in advance for this chapter not ending how some might like it to!**_

Amorette didn't know why she felt so self-conscious in that moment, but she couldn't help it. For ages there was silence and she grew too hot with her shall around her. She slipped it off and threw it towards the end of the bed. She tossed and turned many times before she let out a frustrated sigh and lay on her back, staring at the canopy above her bed.

"Are you awake?" came Athos voice from the end of the bed.

She smiled wryly. "No. I feel asleep quite some time ago. It must have been your dry wit and sparking humour that helped me drift right off to sleep Athos dear."

"Athos dear?" he queried. "You haven't called me that in a long time."

"You haven't deserved it in a long time," she muttered. She pushed her pillow up behind her and sat up a little in bed, frustrated with her lack of sleep. From her half sitting position she could just see his face.

"Is your shoulder bothering you?" he asked.

"A little, but I suppose that's to be expected." She watched as Athos sat up a little on the couch and reached to the floor for something. Amorette watched as he fumbled with the pocket of his doublet before pulling free a little leather bound book.

"I almost forgot, D'artagnan asked me to return this to you." He placed the book at the foot of the bed and Amorette reached down to take it.

"Ah, I'll have to thank Monsieur Desrosiers for his help earlier. I don't think I'd have worked that riddle out at all if it hadn't been for him."

She saw Athos turn his head towards her. "The poet? Is he in Paris then?"

Amorette gave a light chuckle. "Yes. He arrived today with some friends. Claude is trying to marry off her niece to one off them, poor Georgitte." Amorette chuckled again as she recounted that day's events regarding Claude's mission.

Athos laughed along with her. "With what you tell me of your friend Mademoiselle, I'm surprised she isn't trying to find you a husband also."

Amorette felt the smile vanish from her face. "I think I'd only need to ask her and she would have men lined up outside the door. She means well, but I think she forgets that its people's feelings she puts on the line; both with the woman and the man. It's awkward enough as it is when it's something that happens naturally between two people, but when it's all arranged and put together by a third party it can feel like you have no control over your own feelings or situation."

"Are you talking about Franc la Belisle?" Athos asked, apprehension in his voice.

"Not really. I know my father had given Franc his blessing but he didn't push the matter too much. And don't worry, Claude told me about Franc. I know he's dead. I'd rather not know the details though." Amorette pulled at a fraying thread of the blanket that was spread over her absentmindedly.

Athos moved off the conversation of Franc altogether, whether on purpose or not, Amorette did not know. "So there have been other proposals made to you?"

Amorette felt herself squirm. It wasn't exactly a conversation that she wanted to have with Athos but she supposed that it was the most hospitable conversation they had entered into since her return to Paris. "Not as such. There was one or two, but I never really gave any of them any consideration."

Amorette felt the question in the air even before Athos asked it. "Who were they?"

"There was Henry Grey, the Earl of Kent. He's a good man, and they said that he treated his late wife very well. He and my father never saw eye to eye which would have been a bonus. It would have been a good match if he'd been a catholic. He was very understanding about the situation too."

"And the other?" Athos pressed.

Amorette hesitated, not sure how well her answer would go down. "You won't like it."

She watched as Athos sat upright on the couch and gazed at her questioningly. He stood and moved to lean against the post of the bed. "Tell me!"

"The Duke of Nemours, Louis of Savoy."

"What?" he exclaimed as he took a seat on the corner of the bed.

"I told you that you wouldn't like it. It was a match orchestrated by my father but my refusal didn't go down very well with Louis. For a while he was still sending these angry letters. He called me a witch." Amorette let out a chuckle and fell back against the pillows.

Athos didn't laugh. "How did it end? Does he still write to you?"

Amorette shook her head. "Oh no. As soon as I told Buckingham about the letters he stepped in. They stopped after that. I don't know what he did or said and I don't think I want to. I know it started another bitter quarrel between Buckingham and my father though."

Athos nodded, understanding crossing his face. "I think I am coming to an understanding of your friendship with Buckingham. He protects you from your father, doesn't he?"

Amorette nodded. "He really has been a great friend to me. I've repaid him quite poorly today in taking that key but I suppose it was for the best. If Buckingham had used that key I don't know what sort of trouble he'd have gotten himself into. I'll have to have a word with him about this vendetta the Queen has against him. I'll recommend that he travels abroad for a while until it all blows over."

"That may be for the best," mused Athos.

For a while longer they talked in close proximity; Amorette sinking lower and lower against the pillows as tiredness overtook her. She didn't remember falling asleep or how she came to be outside.

 _The Quai des Augustins was entirely deserted. Amorette marched past the empty fishing boats and ships moored along the docks and thought it strange that not a soul was about. She could just see the first rays of sun on the horizon and by rights the fishermen should have been returning to the docks in their boats with crates of produce to take to market, but there was no one. Amorette marched on towards the Pont Neuf, feeling a little chilly in the morning air. Still she saw no one as she crossed the bridge and the Louvre Palace loomed over her. She wondered if anyone was looking out of their window from the palace at the lonely Mademoiselle on the bridge, dressed in only her night things. She looked down then as the realisation hit her that she wore no shoes or coat but only her simple muslin slip._

 _The air changed around her and suddenly she was falling. The air buffeted her nightdress and hair upwards, so that if felt as if her fall was almost slowed by the aggressive gust of wind. The water was still coming up to meet her though. She sucked in a breath, ready for the painful collision with the murky surface water but it never came. As soon as the water hit her a different type of explosion engulfed her. There was dust under her fingernails, in her hair and on her tongue. She tried to speak, to cry out but more dust only clogged her throat. She thrashed about in the gloom, feeling what may have been sand all around her. It was as if she was floating through the sand and she came to a stop when a wall or floor of some sort collided with her back. Something pressed down on top of her too but it was not sand any more. Large stones fell from the non-existent celling to slowly form some sort of blockage all around her. Stone after stone fell, and Amorette tried to push against them, to move them out of her way. They would not budge though and she felt her throat constricting even more as the sand or dirt wouldn't shift. She tried to cough, to cry out but it was no use. Suddenly, the largest stone yet came hurtling towards her out of nowhere and Amorette opened her mouth in a silent scream as it collided with her head._

Despite the coolness of the room Amorette woke drenched in sweat. The fire was just embers in the grate now and in the near darkness she could just make out Athos' sleeping form at the end of her bed. She felt tears prick her eyes as she recalled her dream. Not wanting to wake Athos, she threw off the blankets and padded barefoot into the parlour. She poured herself a small glass of wine in the hopes that it would help her sleep and settled into a couch for a while to drink it.

She sat for an age not really thinking of anything in particular before she realised she was cold. Suddenly, the slightest of movements behind her had her jumping. Athos was leaning against the door frame watching her intently. It was almost as if those blue eyes could see straight through to her soul in their shrewd intense gaze. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Something within Amorette knew that he had been watching her the whole time she had been sitting there sipping her glass of wine. "Trouble sleeping?" His question may have been nonchalant but Amorette sensed the inquisitiveness behind his words and knew if she lied he would bat away her excuse. Instead, she decided to remain silent. "What was your nightmare about?" he pressed again.

As Athos took a seat on the coffee table before her and fixed her with an expectant look this time she knew there was no other option but to answer him. "It started with a dream I've had before," Amorette said as she tried to skirt round the issue of the first part of the dream. It was something that she didn't quite understand herself and having someone else analysing the details would make it all seem more out of reach. "But it changed towards the end. I was trapped in the catacombs. Dust and stone fell on top of me and I couldn't breathe or see or shout. It just felt so real." Amorette glanced up towards him and found that the cobalt blue eyes were not as sharp and ferocious as they normally were. In fact they could have been described as gentle and almost warm. "I keep thinking about what might have happened if you hadn't followed me down there; or if the others had been a few moments later in finding us. We might all have died down there Athos! All because of a bloody necklace that was just bait!"

Athos gently placed his hand on top of hers and squeezed. He gave a long sigh before he spoke, "But we are still here. We are all alive and as well as can be expected. Why are you dwelling so heavily on what might have happened? It is as you said earlier; what is done is done and cannot be changed. The events of this afternoon are in the past and no one may go back and change them. Thus we live on as we did before." Amorette knew he was right and tried to let his words sink in but she still feared to close her eyes and bear witness to it all again. She nodded to show that she understood and gently tried to prise her hand away from his. He released her hand and stood up. "Your hands are freezing, go back to bed. It's still too cold for late night wanderings."

Amorette stood too and slipped past him and slipped back into her bed chamber, feeling the lightest touch of his hand upon her back as she moved. "What time do you suppose it is?" Amorette asked to the darkness.

"It will be light in an hour or two I think," Athos confirmed.

Amorette climbed back into bed but stayed in a sitting position, sure now that sleep would evade her completely and if she was completely honest that was not so frightening a prospect. "Perhaps I'll just get dressed then. There's not much point trying to sleep now." In reality, Amorette would have welcomed sleep if she knew that she could rest soundly. She felt dejected and exhausted but would rather stay awake than experience that dream again. She regretted how sad her eyes must have looked when she caught Athos staring at her. Without a word he got up from the couch and walked around the side of the bed towards her.

As he lay down on the other side Amorette stared at him incredulously. "What on earth do you think you are doing?"

She almost thought she saw the slightest of smirks tug at the ends of his mouth before his stoic expression returned. "You can hardly expect to sleep sitting like that can you? Come here." With an arm outstretched he gestured for her to lie down beside him but she stayed sitting. She was sure she looked enough of a mess without embarrassing herself further and attempted to pull away slightly. He gently grasped her arm and tugged her towards him. "Don't look so worried. You know me Amorette, and you know I mean no harm. I only wish to help you get some sleep."

"I know you mean no harm!" Amorette blurted. "But this…is this really a good idea?" Surely Athos couldn't think that this would in any way help Amorette try to dispel the feelings she had for him.

"If it helps you sleep, then yes!" With that, he gave one final tug and Amorette conceded to let herself be pulled down onto the bed. She almost gasped when he pulled her so close to him that her head had to rest on his chest. With an arm clamped firmly around her waist Amorette had no way of escaping and she waited for the tell-tale signs of perspiration on her forehead and an erratic heart beat to give her away. Instead though she felt inconceivably calm. After a few seconds she let herself relax against him as she breathed in his smell and let her hand uncurl to lie flat against the plains of his chest. He reached up and gently gripped the wrist of that hand, holding it in place. Just like that Amorette drifted off to sleep.

Sleep did not come so readily for Athos though. He had known she would have given some sort of reluctant reaction to his suggestion to lie in that way but ultimately he knew that she would have given in, not able to forgo the chance to lie in his arms. His sole motive had been to ensure that she felt safe and therefore slept well enough to ward off any more dreams. Now that he was there though in the moment, with her soft warm breaths on the base of his neck, her tiny hand pressed against his chest and her hair fanning out on the pillow and his shoulder, some other strange emotion began to take him over. He gazed at her in the near darkness, wishing and hoping that he would see once again the face of the five year old child that he had met so long ago but that Mademoiselle was no longer there. That was when he realised his mistake. He had always seen her as that little child, but a single days occurrences had been more than enough to prove to him that she had in fact been a grown woman for a very long time; Perhaps even since the day her mother had died. How on earth had he not seen it?

Now that he was beginning to see her in her true light, other things became apparent. Athos was nothing if not a gentleman but he was also a red blooded male and here he lay with a beautiful woman that he had known all his life, one of her breasts pressing into his armpit through his shirt and her nightdress and the other to his chest as she slept. In fact, with his arm around her as it was, she was pressed so closely to him that he felt he could feel every curve of her body against his. That single second was when the wall came crashing down inside his head. This was what he had not seen or perhaps even ignored for such a long time. He had always tried to care for her as an older brother would. As a lively and vibrant child she had been so happy for his friendship but as she had grown into a teenager things shifted focus. She no longer saw him simply as her cousin's friend any more but as someone that she highly esteemed and trusted. Amorette had found a place for him in her heart so very swiftly that Athos had been lost for what to do about it. He had watched her grow up and had thus disconnected from the innocent advances she had made towards him. He could see his mistake very clearly now but with that sickeningly hopeful revelation came another. The very moment Athos realised that he could perhaps have feelings for Amorette that were not just friendship, he also came to the conclusion that they could never be anything more than friends.

Athos had married Amorette's sister and thus had prevented any future feelings from blossoming. Their previous encounters before Paris had been fraught with angst and confusion because perhaps Amorette had known deep down that the one thing she wanted most in the world was something that she couldn't have. Athos had always known how deep her feelings for him ran but now that he shared them he had an inkling of just how lonely and soul destroying it had been for her to love him despite every obstacle in her way. They could never have anything more than close friendship now because Athos knew in his heart that what they wanted went against everything that Amorette believed in. She also deserved far more than a man who had taken twenty years to really see her for what she was.

It felt so alien to him, to lie in the darkness with all of those thoughts in his head and not feel regret or pain. To feel for Ann had caused him immense pain and shame. How he loved a scheming murderer was beyond him but his feelings were not weak enough to be washed away with the years that had passed since his marriage. This was something different entirely. What he was discovering in his heart almost gave him pride that he had chosen to feel for someone so good and kind. Then he stopped himself. He supposed that it was Amorette who must feel pride for her perseverance and steadfastness. After all that she had been through her resolve and strength had not wavered and the reality was startlingly obvious. Athos was lucky to have always had such a friend in his corner and now he would have to be the one to wait. He could think no more of these thoughts without Amorette being privy to them so he would have to speak to her. He had no right to presume that anything could develop from here when she did not know how his feelings had changed. Was it foolish of him to hope that Amorette might just give in to the love she had harboured for twenty years and accept his new-found feelings?

When Athos awoke to a room flooded with light the next morning, he found that he and Amorette were in much the same position they had been in the night before. She still lay pressed against him with her head on his chest but in his sleep he had released his hold on her wrist and had wrapped both arms around her. Despite the dust and chaos of the catacombs the day before he thought he could still recognise the faintest smell of lavender hair oils and immediately to save himself he began to move. Rolling Amorette gently away from him so as not to jostle her shoulder, Athos tore from the bed and pulled on his boots. There was noise from the corridor and he decided to cross into the parlour to open the door. Maids bustled by and Athos noted that it must have been mid-morning. When the hallway emptied he opened the door wider and watched the commotion down in the courtyard below from the window. He really should have left to return to his own lodgings by now. He risked a great deal for both him and Amorette by staying any longer, but something within him would not let him leave until she was awake. A low chuckle had him starting, but when he turned he found only Porthos coming through a set of double doors.

"It's lucky for some isn't it, getting to sleep to all hours of the day!" Porthos exclaimed with a laugh. After a few seconds though his smile waned a little and he jerked his head in the direction of Amorette's rooms. "How is she?"

"More scared than she will ever tell anyone, I think." Athos muttered.

"We covered for you with Treville, although I think he saw right through our excuses straight away. In the end Aramis thought we should tell him the truth in case he thought you were sleeping off a heavy night in the tavern or something."

"Thank you," said Athos as he clapped his friend on the shoulder. "It's much appreciated."

Amorette woke to a prettily sun dappled room. The thick winter drapes had been removed in favour of light lace summer drapes whilst she had been in Scotland and the lace patterns cast pretty shadow effects on the wooden floor. Amorette patted the space behind her, found it empty and frowned. Had Athos not been with her the previous night? She remembered that he had draped his doublet over the arm of the couch and decided to check if it was still there. She began to roll over onto her other side and she let out an ear splitting yelp. In her sleepy haze she had forgotten all about her injured shoulder and pain seared through it as she had moved to place weight on it. Amorette pulled herself back to lie flat on her back as tears pricked her eyes. Athos tore back through the door with a worried expression on his face.

"I'm alright, don't fuss!" Amorette cried before he reached her. Athos gently pulled the shoulder of her nightgown away to reveal her now loose bandage hanging limply from her shoulder. "It must have loosened in my sleep." Amorette hadn't realised how much support the tightly wound bandage had given her shoulder.

"Do you want me to fetch someone? A doctor?" called Porthos from beyond the door.

Athos' hand was still upon her shoulder and he was attempting to lift her bandage to ensure that Aramis' needlework was still intact. The touch of his hand against her bare skin was enough to make Amorette feel self-conscious again. "Could you fetch Constance for me please?" she cried out. Constance would not cast judgement, but Amorette knew that she would have to deal with hearing about this again and again from her friend for quite some time.

A little while later Constance rushed into the room and when she caught sight of Athos she frowned. "Come on, out! You've caused enough trouble as it is, go on!" She swatted him away from the bed and waited until he had retreated into the parlour before helping Amorette replace her bandages.

When Constance slipped back into the parlour again she found Athos still pacing the floor before the fireplace. She shook her head and turned to walk away but Athos sensed there was something that she had to say. She turned to him again and he knew she was going to berate him. "I don't know what your purpose was in staying here last night you know! You know how she feels about you so why didn't you fetch me to stay with her. I'm sure you only meant well but did you think of her feelings at all?"

"The Cometess didn't object," Athos lied.

"Even so," Constance sighed and let her shoulders sag as her anger dissipated. "You should have considered how she would feel this morning. The last thing Amorette needs is to have her feelings toyed with. Just be careful Athos." He knew the warning was meant in a friendly way more than anything else and so gave a curt nod in response. "She'll be out in a moment."

Constance turned to leave and Athos gaped at her. "What?"

"Don't blame me Athos, I tried. I told her she should rest but she wouldn't hear of it. I helped her dress so she's fixing her hair and then she'll be out I expect."

Constance slipped out of the door and her heeled slippers created an echo as she walked away. A matter of seconds later Amorette stepped out of her bed chamber, stopping in the doorway when she spotted Athos. "I didn't know you were still here."

"I wanted to be sure you were alright," said Athos from his spot by the fireplace.

"Well as you can see I'm absolutely fine so…You didn't have to stay last night you know. I appreciate you doing so but you didn't need to." Amorette's silk skirts floated towards him across the room until she stood next to him. "But thank you."

"I thought it was the right thing to do," Athos said in clipped tones.

Amorette could tell that Athos knew he had said the wrong thing. She glared at him as he tried to think of a better way to remain neutral. "The right thing to do? That's your answer for everything nowadays isn't it? I mean, you slept in my bed with me last night! For heaven's sake why do you never show any feelings or emotions? You pretend to be some sort of aloof unfeeling soldier with a heart of stone and I know that's not you! I know you Athos and-"

Amorette didn't get the chance to say any more for at that exact moment Athos leaned forward to grab fistfuls of her skirts and yank her towards him. Amorette only had the time to let out a small gasp as she saw something change deep in Athos' eyes before his lips crashed into hers. He spun her around and backed her against the wall, kissing her with fervent abandon. He clutched her waist tightly and pushed her deeper into the wall as his kiss became more ferocious. For the first ten seconds Amorette lost all trail of thought and was unable to do anything. Slowly though she felt her thoughts return to her and she placed two firm hands flat against his chest and pushed him away from her with all her might.

When he sensed her reluctance, he jumped away sharply to stare at her in confusion. "What the hell do you think you're doing Athos?" she snarled. "You can't just…just…" Amorette gesticulated wildly as she tried to find the right words to phrase her sentence.

"Show feeling and emotion?" Athos finished for her. "I thought that was what you wanted!"

"How could you possibly know what I want?" Amorette screeched. "You are not inside my head Athos! You think that this is what I want do you? For you to throw me against the wall and kiss me because you can think of nothing better to do?" Amorette wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her dress and sniffed. In a small voice she continued, "I do not want your pity Athos and I never did. That is what this is. You feel sorry for me so you are attempting to make me feel better but that's not right. You are taking advantage. You feel bad for me and that's partly because of the way you have treated me these last few months so you are trying to make yourself feel better by in turn making me feel better. That's not fair Athos."

"Amorette that's not what this is?" Athos reached out to touch her arm but she pulled away swiftly.

"Then what is it; because from where I'm standing it cannot be anything else? Do you really think that's what I want? You are my sister's husband and you still love her! You know, I used to think that I wouldn't care if you loved me back or not and that if you offered yourself to me I'd take you and not think on it. But that's the thing that has changed within me. I need someone to love me in return Athos. I don't think you can give me that whilst you still care for my sister! You cannot love two people. I know that this may sound odd, considering how I've felt about you all these years but I cannot settle for that anymore. I've been alone all my life and it's all I've known and let's face it, if we were to form some kind of relationship I'd still be alone. Did you wish I was her when you kissed me? Would you always think on her when you were with me? I'd spend the rest of my life wondering that! You see Ann still makes you so angry and frustrated and you would become that around me. I don't think it's fair on either of us to lie to ourselves and say that it could possibly work. I want you to kiss me just because you want to!"

"You and your sister are different people, I know that now Mademoiselle," Athos said quietly.

Amorette nodded stiffly. "Yes I think you do. But in those moments of passion when you kiss me or hold me close will you be able to keep the distinction in place? I might have been able to deal with it when I was younger because I was just a child and I was so infatuated that I would have taken any affection you had bestowed upon me with relish, but I'm older and wiser now. My feelings are not a foolish crush. I love you Athos, but I cannot love on my own. I need my feelings to be reciprocated because otherwise what is the point? In the end I will only end up hurt. So will you I expect. For both of us I think it is best if we remain friends and nothing more." Amorette brushed past him to walk towards the door. "I think it's best Athos, if we keep our distance from one another for a time."

With that, she ventured out into the hallway with tears still flowing down her cheeks. Perhaps Athos should have been taking on board all of what she had said. He knew she was hurting now more than ever because she had thrown away the thing she wanted most in the world and he should have been coming to terms with the fact that she had spoken her mind fully to him. What she had said was important he knew; but he couldn't process those thoughts. The only thing that reverberated around his brain was that he had wanted her to kiss him back.

 _ **It really is one step forward, five steps back with these two! I know that might not be the ending to that scene that everyone is hoping for but I promise they will end up together at some point! They just have to work through their truck load of issues first, and the obstacles I'm about to throw at them!**_


	26. Chapter 26

**_So on an unimportant note my laptop decided to give up the ghost after being on its last legs for over a year and I hadn't saved the last two chapters to a pen-drive. Just about managed to recover them and I now have a pretty new laptop! Yay!_**

 ** _Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I know things are still moving rather slowly on the romantic front where Athos is concerned but I think that's closer to his personality. Please don't hate me for what I do in this chapter. Curveball approaching!_**

 ** _I only own Amorette._**

The assembled audience jeered loudly towards the defendant as the guilty verdict was called out. The young lawyer who had presided over the prosecution gave a mocking bow to the crowd, grinning as he did so.

"Your friend is rather good!" Amorette whispered to Fabien Desrosiers who sat next to her. Amorette did not hear his reply though because at that moment a bought of muttering about the rightful placement of women broke out behind her. She glanced about her and received some furtive looks in return. "Fabien should I be here? I'm getting a lot of funny looks!"

Fabien turned to look at her incredulously. "Why on earth shouldn't you be here? It's an open gallery for goodness sake!"

"But I'm a woman," she muttered as she glanced about her again. "I don't think we are permitted to attend courts like this unless specifically called as a witness. Perhaps I should leave; I don't want to get you into trouble."

Fabien threw Amorette another incredulous look. "Good God what men have you courted in the past? You're not going anywhere unless there's a brawl of some sort and even then I will escort you out and home myself!"

Was that what they were doing; Courting? Then the thought struck her; how could they be anything else but courting? Sat on a bench in the crowded gallery, to ensure that they could hear one another they were sitting so closely that their knees touched and Fabien's hand rested on the small of her back. He'd been surprised when Amorette had told him that she had never attended a court session and had brought her along to witness the process for herself. Fabien had been to many as he sought out inspiration for his plays that although not yet widely known were increasing in popularity by the day in Paris. It was not the only side of the man that Amorette had admired though. They had spent quite a lot of time together since their first meeting and it had now become a regular occurrence after four months to dine alone together at least once a week.

During one of those private dinners Amorette had confessed her feelings for Athos. She had not known how Fabien would have reacted, but as he was starting to make his romantic intentions clear she felt it only right to divulge her secret. Surprisingly Fabien shared her feelings of unrequited love. He had fallen in love in Italy on his travels with a beautiful young woman that even he had described as horrid and self-centred and thus understood Amorette's situation completely. That alone brought them much closer together as they discussed the difficulties of their romantic misadventures.

Amorette had deliberately not given much thought to the labelling of their new friendship as she liked the man and wanted to enjoy his company without complicating things. She had expected him to move on to someone else by now considering all of the female attention that he was receiving. Claude may not have thought him marriage material for a wealthy young woman but it hadn't stopped the younger women admiring him from afar and it wasn't just the beautiful and sometimes rather scandalous poetry that enthralled them all though. In spending so much time with him Amorette had come to find him very pleasing to be around. He was humble and modest with a good heart and bucket-loads of ambition. There was also that dazzling smile that charmed her completely. It was the deep conversations that they had shared that were really having an effect on her though. Fabien's depth of feeling and ability to express his emotions so eloquently left Amorette feeling a little inadequate at first because talking about her own issues in life wasn't something that she felt comfortable with at all, but at length she began to open up to the poet who had an intrinsic way of making her feel like she could finally begin to be at peace with everything from her past. Amorette didn't know why, but all that she had been through with her father and sister seemed to matter so much less when she had the company of Fabien.

The young lawyer made his way over to them during a break in proceedings. "Monsieur Rouzet," announced Fabien as he stood up to greet his friend. "Allow me to introduce you to the Cometess de la Feuillette; Amorette du Gilliory. Madam; my old friend Sacha Rouzet."

"Just Amorette is fine," said Amorette with a chuckle as the young lawyer kissed her hand with a flourish.

"And it's about time too!" called Sacha. "Do you know, Madam that my friend here has spoken of little else but you since he returned to Paris? Why he hasn't introduced you to his friends for so long we cannot know but I am glad to finally meet the woman he has spoken so highly of!" Amorette felt a slight blush creep into her features as the lawyer turned back to Fabien. "I can't talk now but we should all meet after session later if you have no other engagements? I'll meet you both somewhere? And of course if you have any friends as pretty as you are yourself Madam, you must bring them along?" With a wink the lawyer began to take his leave of them as court was called back into session. From a few rows away he turned to call out to Fabien again, "Monsieur this next case is not expected to go so smoothly. There is trouble expected!" With a nod towards Amorette he continued, "If things are going to take a turn for the worst I'll give you a nod. I expect there will be a brawl of some sort here before the day is out."

With that he returned to his place at a long table covered with what looked like law books and Fabien returned to his seat. Amorette quickly realised that there had been more than one intention to his standing to greet his friend for as he sat again; he placed himself even closer to her on the bench. Amorette pretended not to notice the movement. "How is it that you know Monsieur Rouzet?"

"We studied together," Fabien confirmed. "I believe he thought he may have chosen acting for his path for a time. But he has not lost that side of him as you can see." Fabien gestured towards his friend who now addressed the magistrate and jury. "The job of a lawyer isn't just knowing the laws of the country inside out. To be successful you must also be a great orator and present your case with a certain level of decoration that makes it not only convincing but logical."

"So it goes hand in hand?" Amorette asked.

Fabien nodded. "I have other friends in the business of law. From time to time they may seek the help of a wordsmith to try and present a presentable opening or closing speech." For a while they fell into silence and watched events unfold and Amorette paid closer attention to the lawyer's words and movements and saw his clever addressing of the jury that had assembled. From a gallery above them shouts slowly became discernible as opposing supporters argued their points. For a while more they watched proceedings but Amorette could sense Fabien growing uneasy beside her and knew it was because the arguments upstairs were increasing in volume. At length Monsieur Rouzet turned to glance towards the upper galleries and then his eyes flickered towards Fabien. It was all the warning that her poet friend needed to grab Amorette's hand and lead her out of the courtroom and into the Paris streets as quickly as he could. They headed across the river towards a tavern that Fabien and his friends frequented regularly and Amorette sent word to Claude of where they were. Claude had arranged to meet them later that afternoon but Amorette was beginning to regret agreeing to such a meeting now that she had met the lawyer. Claude would have attached herself to him in no time and Amorette didn't like the fact that she would essentially be to blame for her friend taking another lover behind her husband's back.

After a short while Sacha Rouzet arrived with a cut lip and a bloody nose. Amorette sent Fabien to the bar for some more drinks whilst she grabbed a cloth and had Sacha tip his head back whilst she pinched his nose to stop the bleeding. "Does this happen a lot Monsieur?" she asked curiously.

"Brawls? Every so often. I think sometimes people just sit in the gallery because they want to be part of a fight." Sacha gestured for Amorette to remove the cloth from his face and sat forward. "Sometimes it's understandable. People connected with the case cannot hold in their emotions and anger and as they are not well educated they cannot present it with impertinent words. Therefore they use their fists to do the talking. It's the others who join in for the sake of it that confuse me."

"But you could be seriously hurt? Is there not a way to stop such things from happening?" Amorette leaned against the table as she used the cloth to siphon away the last of the now dried blood from his face.

"Why on earth would I want to stop it?" cried the young man incredulously. "It's all part of the fun!" He laughed at Amorette's blatant shocked expression for a few seconds but a glance towards the door had him stopping.

Amorette turned to see Claude approaching them and inwardly grimaced. "Goodness what happened to you Monsieur?" Claude cried as she removed her hat and shawl and threw them down onto the table.

"Why don't you go and tell Fabien what you would like to drink Claude?" suggested Amorette. Her friend nodded and scurried off. Amorette watched Sacha smirk as he followed her friend's movements with watchful eyes. She swatted him on the arm lightly and spoke before he got the chance to. "I suppose I should warn you that Claude is a married woman!"

Sacha's eyes returned to the retreating figure of Claude. "Happily or unhappily married?" he asked with a note of mischief in his tone. Amorette shook her head in amused disbelief and didn't answer. "Don't worry. I'm not about to out her to her husband if that's what you think. I also will not force her into any sort of situation which isn't to her liking but why should I not try for her if she decides to like me in return?"

Amorette gazed at the young lawyer for a few minutes as she tried to decide how to best phrase her thoughts. "Monsieur I take no issue with Claude having lovers if they make her happy. I just want her to be safe, and to know what it is that she wants. I do not think that she does know what she really wants you see. She may be a few years older than me but I feel as if it is I who is attempting to look after her in this matter. I just don't like to think of her running around Paris with all of these lovers and still feeling lost."

"Then you are a good friend Madam." Sacha lowered his voice then to a barely discernible whisper as Claude and Fabien took their seats around the table. "I understand your worry but rest assured, I am no lothario. I will endeavour to treat your friend with the respect and care that she deserves. I will not take advantage of her, but she is a beautiful woman and I've never been one to hide my feelings!"

Amorette wanted to reply but she was scared that Claude would overhear her, so she stayed silent. It didn't take long for Claude to attach herself to the young lawyer and within a few weeks they were certainly very close friends if not lovers. It seemed Amorette's fears were all for nothing. On the whole, Claude seemed happier than Amorette had ever seen her and Sacha seemed to have no interest in any other women. Amorette still would not call it a triumph though that she had been the one to albeit rather reluctantly bring them together. She still worried about Claude's husband finding out even though Claude couldn't care less about such a predicament. Amorette had even voiced her fears to Fabien but he had assured her that his friend had only the best of intentions.

In fact, Fabien was able to tell Amorette that Sacha was enamoured with Claude and wanted to ensure she was happy and wanting for nothing. Amorette had noted dimly that Claude already wanted for nothing due to her husband's good name but Fabien had all but forbidden her from worrying about Claude's dilemma. "I understand that she is your friend Amorette, and that you do not wish to see her hurt but she is a grown woman! She is older than you, as you keep reminding us all and in my opinion that makes her liable for her own mistakes. I wish you would think upon yourself with as much care as you do your friends. Why not look to your own life and happiness?" he had asked her one evening as they strolled in the Jardin des Tuileries.

Amorette had given a shrug of her shoulders as a reply and kept walking but Fabien stopped still upon the gravel path. "I'm serious Amorette. You say that Claude is lost but what about you? Do you know what it is that you want from life? Because sometimes I think you would do well to take a leaf from Claude's book and live in the moment. Stop worrying about the future and simply enjoy the moment." Fabien held his hand out as a gesture for her to come closer and she did, taking his hand as she reached him. "There's something I've been wanting to do for a while now and I've been wary to do so because I didn't know how you would react but I think now I need to Mademoiselle. Easing you into things is not the way to go because that gives you too much time to think. I may spend hours and days pouring over books and writing poetry but that is just one side of me. That side of me I know you already do love, but I think there's also another side of me that you could come to love if only you would let yourself."

Amorette wasn't really sure what Fabien meant by that. He was right in that she did admire his penmanship and loved the philosophical poet in him who wanted to express his feelings in rhythm and rhyme but was there even more to discover? She gazed at him, scared to speak in case she said the wrong thing and ruined the moment. Gently he brought his hand up to caress the side of her cheek ever so gently. Then his hand slid down towards her neck to rest there, one finger deftly raising her chin and Amorette knew then what he had wanted to do. When Fabien kissed her it was gentle and careful as if seeking approval. For a few seconds Amorette was stunned that he had acted so rashly in such a public place. His words though had her slowly begin to kiss him back. Here she was with a man who thought a great deal of her and certainly liked her enough to kiss her, and the thing was that she liked him too. Did it really matter if she kissed him back; if anyone saw? He had told her to live for the moment and in that moment he was all that there was. Amorette slipped her arms around his neck and he dragged her closer and deepened the kiss. The gentle carefulness was gone now and something else was in its place, something confident and carnal.

As they both breathlessly pulled away from each other Amorette realised just where they were and that other couples roamed the lawns and took advantage of the twilight just as they had done. She had briefly forgotten all her worries about Claude and Sacha and all that she had thought of was Fabien. He was watching her closely and her smallest of smiles had him pulling her towards him again. This kiss was something else entirely. Fabien kissed her so deeply and intensely that Amorette felt her knees go weak. She couldn't fall though as he held her so tightly against his chest. The strangest feeling of weightlessness overcame Amorette and she felt as if she couldn't have moved away from him even if she had wanted to. In his arms she felt powerless and it was oddly liberating to let him show his affection in that way.

Amorette didn't know how long they had been kissing for and she didn't care. The thought occurred to her then that they could stay that way forever, locked in an embrace almost like statues and they would become so. Her thoughts began to flow again as Fabien pulled away slightly and in her mind Amorette imagined them still standing in the same spot years ahead as people walked by, marvelling at the statue of the lovers. The thought made her chuckle. They're noses still rubbed against each other and Amorette felt Fabien's warm breath on her face as he laughed too.

"Mademoiselle there's something I need to ask you. The kiss was not intended to sway you in any way but to see if you were ready and I think you are." Fabien let his arms fall so that he could take both of Amorette's hands in his own. "I'm not asking you to make a decision tonight or give me an answer immediately. It's perfectly alright if you need some time to think, but I think that we could both make each other's lives a lot richer and happier if we were to think more seriously upon our relationship."

Amorette sucked in a breath as she realised what Fabien was about to do. Her mind jarred as confusion settled upon her brain. Why on earth would he ask her that? The man before her could have the pick of Paris women, she was sure of that at least. Although some may have worried about his financial means and risk taking attitude to life Fabien Desrosiers had shown Amorette that he was a kind, thoughtful and generous man with a heart of gold who she admired immensely. Then she realised he hadn't only been talking about the kiss earlier. If she let all of those thoughts plague her mind then she would refuse him before he'd even asked his question. The reality was that Amorette had loved Athos for most of her life, but Athos was not someone that she could ever claim as her own. Here before her stood a handsome young man who made her feel special and appreciated. Amorette could certainly see herself falling in love with him in the future and what was really wrong with that? All her life she had found reason to be alone when there was no need for it. Amorette needed to stop thinking so much and just let her initiative take over. Fabien was watching her warily, as if expecting her to run from him. Instead she looked up at him through her eyelashes and gave him a small smile of encouragement.

"Amorette, would you do me the great honour of accepting my hand in marriage? I'm falling for you and I cannot see the point in tip-toeing around each other anymore! What is it that we are waiting for exactly, some divine message from God telling us that we shouldn't be together?" Fabien squeezed her hands tightly in his own and planted a gentle kiss on her lips. "I believe in fate, and have done since the day I saw you in that courtyard and you asked me about that riddle. I know we have both loved rather painfully in the past and that has damaged us. It's made us who we are though and given us the opportunity to understand that when something like the connection that we have comes along we shouldn't run from it but try to let it develop even more-"

"Yes!" Fabien stared at Amorette blankly as she interrupted him and she let out a peal of laughter at his shock. "Yes I'll marry you!"

Despite the celebratory mood that enveloped them both over the coming weeks it was with great frustration that Amorette said a half-hearted goodbye to Fabien one morning on the steps of the Louvre. "Don't fall in love with her again and leave me here alone! Come back to me, promise?"

Fabien laughed as he wrapped an arm around Amorette's shoulders. In his other hand he held his last remaining piece of luggage and his newly appointed manservant took it from him to place on top of the carriage. "I'm coming back to you, I promise Amorette. But you know both you and I need to do this for ourselves, I need to face her and tell her that despite what she's put me through all these years in pretending to hate me, that I love her no more and won't see her again. It's going to be easier than I thought you know. All I have to do is think of you waiting here for me and it will hurry my endeavours." Fabien was leaving to travel to Italy to tell the woman that he had loved for so many years that he was to be married to someone else. He seemed to be looking forward to letting the weight fall from his shoulders and Amorette was glad that he had taken it upon himself to do such a brave thing. There was a nagging worry that he wouldn't return to her but Amorette supposed that he too would be worried that he would return to Paris to find her in Athos' arms.

"It'll be good for us, all of this. Besides you have your own demons to encounter whilst I'm gone. I know you said that Athos knows you are both just friends but a firm telling of our future plans together can only strengthen that. I think it's only right that we make our plans clear to our past loves. We owe them and ourselves that." Amorette nodded meekly and kissed him possessively. Watching him go was hard but Amorette knew that Fabien was right. She didn't think there was much action needed on her part though. Telling Athos that they were just friends had brought about a strange sense of closure to her. Finally admitting to herself that she couldn't have the man that she had loved all her life had somehow opened her up to so much more. She was sure she would not have noticed Fabien had she given in to Athos that day all those months ago. This marriage with Fabien was what Amorette had wanted all her life secretly. It was a good match with a good man who would certainly keep her on her toes. She was also confident of Fabien's growing feelings for her which made things a lot easier. She knew that loving Athos was painful having experienced it first-hand since she was a young child but having some sort of romantic relationship with Athos would hurt even more knowing that Athos wished that Amorette was in fact her sister.

The other musketeers had offered their congratulations; Aramis most of all. Athos had too, but Amorette could see in his eyes that he didn't understand why she had accepted Fabien. Amorette hadn't bothered to try to explain it to him because it was none of his business. She didn't want to talk about Fabien with Athos. It felt almost like a secret; a toy that she wanted only for herself. Athos was always so sullen and devoid of emotion that he would even unintentionally surely destroy Amorette's happiness and have her questioning everything. No; better to stay away and keep the company of those who were truly happy for her.

 _In the days after Athos' attempt to kiss her Amorette had sought out Aramis for advice. He knew Athos very well and had got the measure of her well enough in a short space of time. "He knows he was wrong to accuse you of being a traitor," Aramis had said. "And he also understands just what it took for you to keep the truth from him. If anything he must admire you greatly for the events that occurred. You were loyal to the Queen and she tried to kill you for it. I think he will have kissed you to offer you comfort, but I do not believe that means that he does not care for you Mademoiselle. You and he are both so stubborn that I cannot imagine him doing it for comforts sake alone. What you and he have is dangerous and destructible at the minute. I think it would take you both an age to work out what it is that you both want from one another and it may not even be worth it at the end. I understand your caution though. You have felt for him all your life more than Athos has ever felt for you and now that you are finally growing up and coming into your own, he decides to take action. It seems to you that he only acts because he's afraid of losing you."_

 _Amorette had agreed with everything Aramis had said and more. Walking along the riverbank they had dissected the meaning of Athos' attempt to kiss her intensely and Amorette felt that all of that thinking made her somehow less keen to feel for Athos as she did. All of that thinking had made her head hurt. Love wasn't supposed to be about worrying and fierce confusion. It was supposed to be freeing and certain. "Enough of Athos and I, how are you Aramis? Have you spoken with the Queen again?"_

 _Aramis had shaken his head sorrowfully. "I don't think there is any cause for that. Whatever there was between the Queen and I is gone now. Her treatment of you confirms it. The woman who I loved would not have treated her friend so abominably. No, there is only our son between us now. That matter is out of my hands already though. There is nothing I can do, or want to do."_

 _Amorette let out a great heaving sigh as she took his arm crossing the Pont Neuf. "I have already forgiven her Aramis so do not think poorly of her on my account." When Aramis turned to gape at Amorette disbelievingly she smiled sadly. "I know what it is to be a woman in this world Aramis; but I do not know what it is to be a Queen. Thus I cannot judge the woman for her actions. I know how it feels to be ordered about and sold by men like cattle for a price. She was frightened and didn't know who she could trust. The safety of herself and her son will be of paramount importance to her now. I do not think I call her friend anymore, or place trust in her but I find I cannot blame her for her actions. However rash they were the poor girl thought she had no other choice. I'm done with feeling angry and torn up over the feelings and fights of others."_

 _"_ _You, Madam are a marvel," whispered Aramis as he gently squeezed the arm that was looped around his._

Amorette had meant what she said about the Queen; she didn't blame her for her actions, but could see no way of salvaging their friendship. Thus on a meandering walk through the Jardin des Tuileries Amorette kept to the rear of the crowd with Claude. Italian dignitaries were being given a tour of the Louvre and its surrounding gardens and all of court was required to attend in the procession. Constance was by the Queen's side and Amorette wouldn't have expected anything else from the loyal seamstress, but she was glad that Claude at least had strayed to her side. The two walked arm in arm through the maze after the procession and giggled at the thought of the whole court trying to fit into the clearing at the finish of the maze.

"Shouldn't we just escape now whilst we have the chance," whispered Claude. "The Queen surely wouldn't notice from so far away would she?"

Amorette laughed but kept walking. "You forget Claude that there are musketeers bringing up the rear. We wouldn't be able to leave entirely unnoticed!"

"Talking of musketeers," simpered Claude and Amorette let out a groan, "Have you spoken to Athos yet about your upcoming marriage?"

"No, and I don't intend to." Amorette sighed. "There's not much point; we would only argue again. It's all we seem to do. Besides, I haven't had time. I've been so busy organising the wedding that I've barely had time to think. Fabien wanted me to make the decisions all for myself. I think he was frightened to make suggestions in case I resented him for it. He's so keen for me to have the wedding that I want, which is sweet of him!"

"I just don't understand you allowing him to scuttle off to his lost love to say some sort of goodbye," muttered Claude. "If I were you I wouldn't have let him go. It seems odd to me that he just left like that."

Amorette shrugged. "He needed to do it. What's the harm in a few weeks apart now when we will spend the rest of our lives together?"

"I just hope you didn't give up all of the jewels and gems before he went Amorette. We both know what men are like. They see a challenge and do anything to overcome it! It's been done before you know, some poor girl agreeing to marry a man and letting him bed her before the ceremony. Next thing she knows he's in Venice with his other lover and forgetting all about her. It has happened."

"Claude I didn't give up any jewels whatsoever!" cried Amorette in indignation. "Don't talk so!" She knew just what Claude had meant.

"What, nothing?" said Claude as she stopped walking and turned to face Amorette. "I know you'd kissed but was there anything else that took place? I don't mean actually climbing into bed with him but were there ever wandering hands? If he took advantage of you in any way that may have been his only intention. Are you sure?"

"Claude I'm sure I haven't given anything to Fabien because I haven't ever given anything to anyone! I'm still…" Amorette gestured towards her lower stomach with her hands at a complete loss for how to phrase what she meant. "I'm still…"

"OH!" Claude cried. She slapped a hand to her mouth in shock. "How on earth have you managed that with those breasts? What, not even with the musketeer?"

"CLAUDE!" Amorette growled as she glanced around her. Jerome Weston was coming towards them in the opposite direction and Amorette sincerely hoped he had not heard any of their conversation. He was in a hurry; that much was clear. He held a folded letter and had obviously received news of some sort and was leaving to deal with it. Amorette flashed him a small smile and he returned it as he passed. Amorette let out a sigh of relief. "No Claude, not with the musketeer!"

"Then why are you so enamoured with him?" her friend asked. "I always thought that you had let him bed you and then he had spurned you. If you two haven't slept together then what is the issue? What is it about him that you were so hung up on?"

"I wish I knew Claude, I wish I knew."

 ** _I think Claude is definitely that one friend who unknowingly embarrasses everyone by talking so loudly and accidentally spilling secrets. I feel like this chapter is a bit of a let-down, certainly after the ending of the last but things will pick up a bit again in the next chapter._**


	27. Chapter 27

_**Just a warning that this chapter contains slightly mature themes; slight mentions of abortion and rape.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

When the scribbled note arrived in Amorette's rooms she stared at it in indignation for a few minutes before glancing towards Constance who sat opposite her. "Oh not again!" she roared.

"What is it?" asked Constance as she reached across to take the note.

"Claude is with her lover again and waits for me to come and meet her with a change of clothing!" Amorette let Constance take the note and stood up to pace the room in agitation. "This isn't right Constance. It's not fair for her to drag us into her affairs all the time. It is one thing to tell her friends of the affairs whilst her husband remains ignorant and put everyone in an awkward position but to ask this of us?"

Constance looked back up from the note. "You're still going to go to her though aren't you?"

Amorette sighed heavily and pulled her shoes onto stockinged feet. "I don't suppose I really have a choice do I? It's not even as if she's asking for the help! She's demanding it. If I don't go she will wait there all day. It's best to go now and get it over with."

Amorette disappeared into her bedchamber and returned with a basket containing a dress and cloak for Claude. "I'll come with you. It will not be half so bad if the two of us go." Constance linked arms with Amorette and together they made their way through the Louvre and out towards Les Halles. They hadn't gone far before D'artagnan caught sight of them and after a shout and a wave he made his way towards them. Both women stopped to let the musketeer catch up to them and shared a worried look with each other. D'artagnan didn't know about Claude's lovers and Amorette was sure he was not supposed to. He didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave them though and walked into the market square with them.

With a knowing look Constance bid Amorette a goodbye and linked arms with D'artagnan. "I'll meet you on the Rue Saint Honoré in a little while, when you've completed your errands!" called the seamstress as she walked away with her husband. Amorette felt slightly defeated without Constance by her side. Going to her friend's lover's door to collect her with a change of clothes felt like a betrayal to everything that Amorette believed in. It was almost as if she had taken a lover herself. Making the journey with Constance had lessened the load slightly, but Amorette was left to continue on alone.

The address scribbled on the note was in the Latin quarter of the city and Amorette had the sneaking suspicion that the lodgings belonged to the lawyer Sacha Rouzet but until she got there, she wouldn't know. She meandered through the streets for a short while, trying not to draw attention to herself before she finally crossed the river and went in search of the lodgings. When Amorette at length reached the Rue de la Harpe and knocked on what she thought was the right door, there was no answer. She knocked a further three times, stepping back out into the street to look up at the upper windows of the house. Amorette knocked a fifth and final time, knowing that if there was still no answer that she would wait no longer. With a disgruntled sigh she stepped away from the door and back out into the street and retraced her steps towards the river again. The basket full of clothing wasn't heavy in the slightest, but Amorette felt the proverbial weight of it as she reached the Pont Saint-Michel and began to cross back towards Les Halles. It was unfair of Claude to ask such a thing of her. Amorette had also been forced to keep the secret of the paternity of the child that now grew in Claude's womb. Even Constance thought that Claude's husband had fathered the child but Amorette knew that it had really been Sacha Rouzet.

Not yet ready to go back to the confines of the Louvre, Amorette wandered the streets again for a while; sure that Constance would not have had time yet to slip away from D'artagnan. At length though, she did wander back to meet her friend. Just as she was crossing from the Rue des Halles from the Rue Saint Honoré she saw Constance coming in the opposite direction. Amorette stopped where she stood and waved to her friend. Thinking it was better for them to walk and discuss what had occurred rather than speak of it within the confines of the palace, Amorette waited for her friend to cross towards her. They stood on the corner for a while and watched the world go by as Amorette explained that she had not been able to find Claude at her lover's lodgings. Constance didn't seem surprised.

They discussed the matter a little more and then made the decision to make their way back. Stepping out onto the Rue des Bourdonnais the two women were suddenly almost knocked off their feet as someone collided with them. No sharp admonishments came to their lips though. The sorry creature that had run straight into them carried on past them and the two women glanced at each other before following. The creature looked to be nothing more than a child and walked with a quick purpose but to the eyes of the casual observer her inability to keep a straight path would have lead them to think she was drunk. Constance and Amorette had both seen her face though. The sickly grey pallor of someone close to death had them trying to catch up with the child as she wandered.

Just as they reached her, the child collapsed in the street. People stood by, gaping at her but dared not go near her for fear of disease. Amorette sensed that something wasn't quite right about it all though. She and Constance fell to their knees either side of the young girl and Amorette pulled the matted hair away from her face. When she did so, she saw that the girl was perhaps not as young as they had first thought. Constance called for a doctor to the crowd around her and grasped the girls hand in her own. Amorette did the same on the other side and asked the girl for her name repeatedly. Leaning in to try to decipher the girl's inaudible words a strange scent of mint assaulted her senses. Clearly, the girl couldn't talk at all.

"It's alright, don't worry. Don't try to talk. Help is coming!" Amorette stroked the girl's hair back again and turned to the crowd behind her. "Where's that doctor?" As she turned back around though, something caught Amorette's eye. Upon the girls bare feet were spots of blood. The feet did not seem to be injured though and Amorette let her eyes travel up the girl's dark brown skirt to where a wet patch was steadily pooling between her legs. Amorette forced the bile that rose in her throat back down and called out to the crowd behind her again. "Someone fetch a musketeer or Red Guard, now!" With a short glance towards Constance she whispered, "There's fowl play at work here!"

"What?" whispered Constance, "How?"

Amorette nodded towards the soiled skirts, "That's blood Constance." Gingerly Amorette braved a look back at the girl's feet where droplets of blood must have fallen when she was still walking. Feeling some strange sort of responsibility towards the girl Amorette began to move slightly so that she could observe the damage underneath the skirts discretely. What she saw had her inwardly cursing whatever animal the girl had come across. She slipped her shawl from her shoulders and bunched it up. She pushed it under the skirts between the girl's legs to try and stanch some of the blood flow even though she knew it would be of little use. Constance was watching Amorette's face intently when she moved back towards the girls head and gripped her hand again. Amorette shook her head slightly at her friend. The girl was bleeding out too much to be saved in any way.

Both women drew their heads close to the girl's and whispered words of reassurance even as her breaths became sharp and laboured. For a while they grew loud and horse but eventually they began to quieten and Amorette watched the girl's head roll to the side and felt the hand that she held grow slack. Amorette sat back on her lower legs. "She's gone."

As soon as she had spoken Amorette was shoved roughly to the side by a Red Guard. "Oi! There's no need for that!" came a loud growl and Amorette felt herself bodily lifted from the ground by her forearms. She glanced behind her in time to see Porthos glaring at the Red Guard angrily. The Red Guard simply shrugged as others from his regiment came along and crouched beside the girl, Captain Neville amongst them. He shared barely a glance with Amorette before drawing his attention to the body of the girl. Constance moved to her side and stood with her and as Amorette looked down she realised that their hands were covered in blood and it had stained their dresses too. Porthos was arguing with one of the Red Guards but Amorette knew it was no use really. This sort of incident in the Les Halles area would be the responsibility of the Red Guards and not the musketeers.

Amorette felt a gentle hand on her elbow as warm breaths ghosted over the back of her neck. "What happened?" came Athos surprisingly smooth and calm tone from over her shoulder.

Amorette gestured to the blood on her dress. "The girl ran into us a little down the street. We knew something was wrong so we followed." Amorette sensed Athos' nod and let him pull her away by her elbow from the chaos a little. A priest had come from the nearby Chappelle des Innocents and was offering a safe place for the body to be taken to. No kind of investigation seemed to take place as the Red Guards lifted the body to carry it away. Amorette pondered as her shawl fell to the ground and the girl was carried away that if she had been of some social standing this whole scene would have played out very differently. She turned away to glance at the crowds that were now dispersing and saw on the other side of the street a group of scantily clad women who could only be prostitutes watching apprehensively. "Look," Amorette whispered as she laid a hand upon Athos' arm. She watched him glance towards the women as they turned to walk away. "Do they know something?"

Athos stepped forward and retrieved Amorette's now bloody shawl from the ground and Porthos looked her and Constance up and down. "Let's go and get you two cleaned up shall we?"

The four of them crossed the river and were just approaching the Rues du Bac when Claude flew towards them out of nowhere. "Where on earth have you been Amorette I've been looking for you everywhere?" Claude faltered slightly when she caught sight of Constance and Amorette's outstretched bloody hands. "Goodness, what happened to you two?"

"Not now Claude!" Amorette sighed and trudged on. Claude followed them into the garrison and listened as both women explained to her and Aramis and D'artagnan just what had occurred. It was left to Amorette to explain what she had seen below the girl's skirts though. D'artagnan had the grace to look a little puzzled and Amorette realised she would have to voice aloud just what had happened to the girl. "She was with child and someone attempted to help her miscarry. She either chose to partake of a back-alley procedure or someone forced her into it."

"We should go and take a look at that body before it is buried in some mass grave!" Aramis announced as he placed his hat back on his head.

"I'll come with you," Porthos agreed and followed his marksman friend back through the archway into the city.

Constance and Amorette managed to clean the blood from their hands as best they could but their dresses would not be salvageable. "Did you see which direction the girl came from?" Athos asked.

Amorette rubbed her chin in thought. "I'm not sure. It all happened so fast, but I guess she must have been coming away from the direction of the river when she collided with us. I cannot imagine her making it all the way across the river though with that…" Amorette's voice faded away into nothing and for a time they all sat in silence in the courtyard of the garrison.

At length Amorette noticed that Claude was fidgeting impatiently where she sat and closed her eyes, sure that her friend was about to say something very insensitive. "I have every sympathy for that young woman and what she went through but is there really anything that any of us can do? She chose to let someone end her unborn child's life and it went wrong!"

"Claude someone butchered that poor girl!" Amorette cried as the image swam before her eyes again. It was not something that she could unsee. "We've all heard the stories; I know but this was different. This was much worse. Those prostitutes know something; perhaps we should go and talk to them?"

Athos looked as if he were about to refuse Amorette. Instead however he said, "Let us hear what our friends have to say on the matter first." Sure enough, Aramis and Porthos were back. "What news?" Athos queried.

"There was the scent of mint upon her lips, which I'd confidently say is Pennyroyal and enough to kill her at that. It's used regularly to terminate unwanted pregnancies in small doses."

Amorette nodded. "We've all heard the stories."

Aramis took a seat beside her. "It was certainly enough to end her life and she would have bled out profusely-"

"But that doesn't explain the damage I saw," interrupted Amorette.

"No it doesn't," Aramis agreed. "Once she had consumed the Pennyroyal she would have been in excruciating pain and light-headed. She was cut as she bled out and she was most likely raped." To others Aramis' explanation may have seemed blunt but Amorette appreciated the fact that he openly told them the truth instead of sugar-coating it.

"Why don't we talk to those prostitutes then? They obviously know something." Amorette looked around the table to find all of the men in disagreement.

"I'll walk all three of you back to the palace," said Athos. "Let us take care of this."

"Those prostitutes won't talk to you lot if that's what you are thinking!" Amorette cried. "They will think that you mean to report them or cause them trouble. It would be better for us to speak with them. They would open up more."

"She has got a point," muttered Claude.

Athos sighed in defeat. "Alright. The three of you may go and speak with them. D'artagnan and I will follow and remain at a distance. Then we will walk you back to the palace as already planned."

Finding the prostitutes that she had spotted earlier was not so easy for Amorette. For a while they trawled the market in Les Halles hoping to catch a glimpse of them before turning towards the smaller streets and less populated areas. It was only as they found their way onto the Rue St Honoré where they had first come across the girl that Amorette caught a glimpse of the group of women that she had seen earlier that morning. It seemed obvious to her then that this was where the women operated from and they wouldn't have travelled too far from their spot.

As soon as one of the women caught sight of them Amorette knew she was going to be in for a challenge. The prostitute began to nudge her friends until they were all aware that they were being watched. If Athos had still been standing close then Amorette was sure the women would have turned and walked away as they had done before. With Athos waiting some way down the street though, the women chose to openly stare at Amorette and her two friends. At length Amorette, Constance and Claude came to stand before the group of women who looked them up and down apprehensively. Amorette knew procuring information from the women was not going to be an easy task but she was prepared to put some effort in. From the folds of her skirts she produced a heavy coin purse and held it aloft.

"The young girl who died here earlier this morning, what do you know of her?" When no one replied Amorette gave the coin purse a little shake. All but one of the women turned their attention to elsewhere in the street or looked down at their feet. One lone woman kept her gaze trained on Amorette's and it was to her that Amorette directed her next words as she sensed that the woman in particular was a leader of sorts of their little group. "I know that you know something. Your reaction this morning was enough to tell me that. I'm not here to judge you or ridicule your way of life. Anything that you tell me will be in confidence. I know you will be fearful of repercussions but no one wants to cause trouble for you in any way. I simply want to prevent something horrid happening to another young woman."

The other women of the group began to walk away and Amorette felt her heart sink a little. The one lone woman who was still watching her intently slid a glance towards the coin purse and back and Amorette knew that there was still a slim chance of retrieving some information. The young woman didn't speak but jerked her head in the direction of a tavern across the street. When she began to walk away Amorette spared a glance for her two friends who seemed uneasy. She shrugged her shoulders and followed the woman, deciding that they really had no other option.

Arriving at a small table in the tavern, Amorette placed the coin purse on the table and sat opposite the prostitute. Despite the gloomy candlelight Amorette thought she could really see the tired circles under the woman's eyes more clearly indoors. Claude took a seat around the table too, but Constance stayed standing, watching the rest of the room. It was still early, perhaps not even luncheon yet and so most of the tavern's patrons were there for their early afternoon meal. It was a quiet subdued atmosphere and Amorette was glad for it. "This money is yours to do with as you wish if you can provide us with some information about that young girl Madam." Amorette gently nudged the coin purse towards the other woman. "There is enough there to take you and your group of friends off the streets for month; to shelter, clothe and feed you. Alternatively it is also enough money to book passage for you out of Paris and on to somewhere new. The choice is entirely yours. Someone hurt that poor girl very badly and we do not even know who she was or how we might get news to her family. Even if you can provide us with her name that would be a great help."

The prostitute's out of fashion hat and its feathered plumes teetered precariously where it sat on top of heavily coiffed ringlets which were a vivid red colour. The woman wore heavy makeup which made her seem older, but Amorette had the sneaking suspicion that the olive green eyes before her had in fact not seen a long life at all. The woman had experienced a hard and cold life and that gave her an air of maturity that could only be expected of a woman who worked the streets of Paris. Amorette immediately felt a wave of sympathy for the woman who had probably known very little happiness and contentment in her life. When she finally did speak in fluent French Amorette immediately knew she was from overseas. She phrased much of her French the way Henry Fitzgerald would; albeit less articulately but there was a slight lilt to her light airy voice that although loud and clear was also otherworldly. She knew then that the woman was Scottish or quite possibly Irish and Amorette knew in an instant that the woman would be a wonderful singer of Irish airs.

"We knew the girl by the name Nathaly, but that may not be her natural name. She gave no family name. She was not from Paris but somewhere outside the city. She gave the impression that she had travelled quite far to get here." The woman seemed hesitant to say any more and Amorette decided that she would have to try a different form of conversation to win the woman's trust.

"What is your name Madam?" Amorette pointed to the coin purse as she spoke. "That money has the possibility to change your life if only you would let it. I know that money will be spent within the week and you will be back on the streets within days but I wish you would consider how it could better your life. It could enable you to go somewhere new and start a new life away from all of this. I'd wager it is even enough money to go back home if you so wish to."

At the last statement the woman's interest was piqued. Her head jerked up and she gaped at Amorette. "Truly? Is it really enough for that."

"If you spend it wisely, yes. If you fritter some of it away it will not take you home. But if you use it with consideration and buy yourself a new traveling coat and a few square meals only, it would certainly purchase you passage on-board a ship. It may also provide for transport some of the way home once you reach land again. What is your name?" Amorette began to relax into her chair, sure now that the woman would at least tell them what she knew. Amorette didn't delude herself however into thinking that the woman would definitely use the money to get herself home. The idea certainly appealed to the woman, but would she be able to keep from frittering the money away? Amorette wasn't so sure. Once she had given her friends a few coins, paid for a few nights' lodgings and square meals and of course spent most of the money on wine or brandy there would be little left for her to begin her new life with.

"My name is Shauna," confirmed the woman as she glanced at the coin purse. "You're right in saying that the money could change my life but why are you offering it? What's so important about one girl? No matter who hurt her or what they did, there will always be someone else out there who is ready to do the same to some other poor creature. You must understand, I don't know who hurt the girl but I'm sure they would know how to get to me. I'm not exactly a Madam of discretion. Discretion would leave me penniless on these streets."

Amorette sighed heavily. She didn't want to worry or frighten Shauna but she wanted to ensure that what had happened to Nathaly didn't happen again. "I want to make a difference Mademoiselle Shauna. If I can pass on what happened to Nathaly to the right people and someone is brought to justice for it, then surely that is preventing any other young women from hurting at their hands. It might not be solving all of the issues in the streets of Paris but if it helps one person then it is worth the money. If you make the right choices and use the money sparingly then in a way I am also helping you; even if you chose to simply stay off the streets with your friends for a time that will be some consolation. Whatever it is that you tell me here I will use with the greatest discretion. No one will know where my intelligence came from. Madam D'artagnan's husband is a musketeer. We will take the information to him. Surely you trust the musketeers to deal with this appropriately. If we were taking our information to Red Guards then I would understand your hesitation but there is nothing to worry about."

Amorette watched Shauna consider her words for a time before it seemed that the woman had made a decision. "As I said, Nathaly is not from Paris. When she first came into the city she was with child. She approached our group and told us she wanted to become one of us. We laughed at her, I feel bad for admitting it but at the time we didn't realise the seriousness of the situation. The girl didn't seem to understand that she carried a child and no man would really want to pay for her services once she started to show. She had money, enough to get back home with. Her father had found out about her pregnancy and had cast her out. She had some money saved away and used some to get to Paris. She was stupidly naive and thought that all of her problems would be answered in Paris. Everyone from outside this city believes it is the stuff of dreams to live here. As a street worker you may get lucky and fall in with a wealthy man who will finance you but that rarely happens to young country girls who know nothing of the trade. Nathaly thought there would be fine dresses and parties and that some Comte would install her within his household and buy her expensive gifts. That's what happens with these sheltered country girls who come to Paris with no knowledge of their own bodies. When I was her age I had already been on the streets for a year or two selling myself. That wonderful life that she had envisioned for herself in Paris is not what life holds instore for any of us. I told the girl she had two choices."

"Which were?" Claude pressed.

"I told Nathaly that either she used the money she had left to take herself back home to her father or she used it to get rid of the child. There are many people in Paris who offer the service of abortion and I told her if she wanted to make that choice in particular, she needed to seek them out for herself. In truth I thought my words would frighten the girl and that she'd go back home. She didn't though. I told her if she wanted to stay in Paris and find herself employment, whatever employment that may be; she needed to abort the child. No one in their right minds would employ an unmarried girl of that age who was also carrying a child. I stayed true to my word in that I didn't suggest someone she should go to. I didn't want to in case anything went wrong or she blamed me for someone overcharging her. I also wanted the girl to choose someone for herself that she felt most comfortable with. I took pity on her and snuck her into my lodgings where she stayed the night. Yesterday morning she set off in search of someone to help her out of her predicament. I still didn't believe she would go through with it. Some of my friends had told her just what an abortion would entail and I really thought a young girl like that would have been terrified into going home. My friend has sought out abortions before and told her to seek out someone who could sell her Pennyroyal. It would still be painful to take a little of the poison day by day but it would be less painful than having some instrument inserted to cause miscarriage. When Nathaly didn't return I assumed she had changed her mind. She drank it all at once didn't she; the Pennyroyal? That's what killed her?"

Amorette shook her head sorrowfully. "She may have taken it all at once and it may have killed her eventually, but someone got to her first. I'd rather not say it aloud, but I'm sure you can imagine how they hurt her. I believe the same person that sold her the Pennyroyal was the one who hurt her."

Amorette watched Shauna nod seriously and watched as realisation crossed the woman's face. She jumped up and reached towards a table behind them where an ink and quill had been left behind. Claude produced a square of paper from her pocket and Shauna began to scribble. "If you believe it was the same person who gave Nathaly the Pennyroyal and hurt her also, then I think I may know where she went to seek help. It never even crossed my mind to warn her off them because I did not think she would be foolish enough to consider them." Shauna finished writing and passed them back the piece of crumpled paper across the table. Looking down, Amorette saw a name and address. "The woman and her son run a shop that sells odd herbal remedies. I do not know how they still manage to do business as no one that I know will go anywhere near them. There have been stories in the past of young women going to them for help when they are in the family way and coming off worse. Just to think of them sends a shiver down my spine. They are odd; frightening even. They are not nice people. If that is where Nathaly went, then Heaven help the poor child."

Claude pocketed the paper and Amorette smiled at Shauna. "Thank you for your help. We appreciate you telling us this. I'll keep my word you know; no one will ever know that we had this conversation save our musketeer friends."

Claude and Constance stood up and made their way towards the door. Amorette stayed seated however. She nudged the coin purse even closer to Shauna. "What will you do with the money?"

"You called me Mademoiselle earlier," muttered Shauna. "I'm no Mademoiselle. I should have liked to have been once. You're right in that the money would get me home to Ireland, but perhaps that chapter of my life is over. I know you think my friends and I will squander the money in a week but maybe I will take action upon what you have said. The treatment of that young girl should be enough to make me want a better life for myself if nothing else. Perhaps I'll leave Paris, go somewhere new in the south of France where I've never been before and start again. Maybe one day I can be Mademoiselle Shauna after all."

 _ **I think this chapter offers Amorette the chance to take a stand for the lesser treatment of women. I think I wanted her to realise that in many ways she is lucky to have the money and position that that she does.**_


	28. Chapter 28

_**Again, thanks so much for the reviews, follows and favourites. Pallysdeeks; I don't think it could be called a sham marriage. Amorette genuinely likes Fabien and he likes her. I think Amorette wants to try and get over Athos because she believes he can't ever feel for her romantically.**_

 _ **So nothing that happens in this chapter exists in my plans for this story! I keep setting an end goal and then pushing it further away! I quite like the fact that I'm making you all wait for Athos and Amorette to get it together though!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Amorette passed a restless evening in her rooms that night. After their conversation with Shauna she had accompanied Constance and Claude back to the Louvre and had regretted that action ever since. There was the niggling thought that somewhere out there in the streets of Paris some poor girl could be about to walk into a horrible trap that she would never come away from. Sitting alone in her rooms with only her books for company didn't sit well with Amorette. She knew that they had done the right thing in passing on the information that Shauna had given them to the musketeers but sitting around idly felt wrong when she could have been helping.

Athos in his usual demeanour had refused their help and sent them home. Amorette could only hope that he was able to do something with the information that she had supplied. It was nights like this when she had felt a pang of longing for Fabien. She had never passed such an evening of agreeable company before she met him and missed the warm conversation that he brought to her evenings. All of her friends had already gone to bed or were spending time with a loved one and for just a second the thought did occur to Amorette that she could seek out Athos if she really so wanted to. There was the strange sense of confidence in the fact that if she did so, he wold not refuse her as he had done so before.

Amorette had spent her life feeling uncomfortable and inadequate in Athos' company and though that may have changed given his rash actions the last time they were alone together in her rooms, Amorette wasn't sure she could control herself in that position. Besides, who was to say that he hadn't changed his mind again and now hated her now more than he ever had done before. No, better to be alone so that she was reminded of just what she had with Fabien. With the poet she had a future that Athos had refused her for a long time. Amorette had never really considered becoming a mother as she hadn't thought she would ever marry, but it seemed a more alien concept now. Her childhood had not been the happiest and perhaps that had influenced her over the years more than she had realised. How was she to become the mother that her potential children would need when she had been set such a terrible example by her father. Granted, her mother had been loving and caring but she had been weak. If Amorette ever had a daughter she wanted her to be strong, independent and to know her own mind and to speak it. Was she ready to give such an example to a child though?

It instilled a warm sense of contentment in Amorette that Fabien believed she would make a wonderful mother. Amorette did not believe so yet herself but it was the kick-start she needed to have with someone thoroughly in her corner. Her rooms looked oddly tidy now compared to their appearance before Fabien had left for Italy. There had been inkwells, quills and paper everywhere with little snatches of prose and poetry to pick up and read and there had been a distinctly lived in feel to the otherwise cold and unattached ambiance of her rooms. There had been the smell of cologne and the odd doublet or shirt that had been left behind too that had served as a mark of how comfortable Amorette felt with Fabien. Amorette got up and shuffled into her bedroom to look at the large four-poster bed that was still consecrated ground where she and her Fiancé were concerned. Whilst Fabien had slept on the couches in the parlour a time or two, he had yet to stay with Amorette in her bedchamber. It was something that he had not forced or coerced either despite Claude's constant warnings to Amorette.

Amorette knew in her heart of hearts that Fabien wanted a true and pure marriage that would only be consummated on their wedding night. It did help Amorette to trust the poet, but there was also trepidation beginning to set in. in depth conversations with Claude who was only too happy to talk about activities of the bedchamber had helped Amorette to understand that sex could also be a compatibility issue within a marriage or relationship. Claude had said that she believed that had been the death of her own marriage. In the beginning she and her husband had loved each other very much but once they were married and living together things within the marital bed had become strained. It had been the only matter that had caused any upset or friction but it was certainly enough to affect every other aspect of their marriage. Amorette wasn't sure how she could handle being married to Fabien only in legality simply because sexually, they had turned out not to be compatible. There was the fear that something of that kind would happen and neither she nor Fabien would be any the wiser until the deal was done and they were husband and wife and there would be no way out.

Amorette simply had to have faith in the man that she had met and hoped to spend the rest of her life with happily. Surprisingly, Amorette found it easy to have such an optimistic outlook on her future with Fabien and knew that this was because of the confidence the poet had instilled within her. She was changing a little, and perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps there really would come a day when she would no longer pine for the surly musketeer.

Leaning against the door frame, a slight movement from the dark corner of the room had Amorette diving across the room towards where her pistols lay on the chaise longue. Peering around one post of the bed into the gloomy evening light she could just make out the cooper curls of Henry Fitzgerald. Amorette emerged from behind the bed and lowered her pistol, but she didn't drop it.

"Henry I don't care how you got in, just leave now! You can't be here!" Henry seemed to have no intention of doing so however. Amorette could just make out the grin he threw at her before turning to look down from one of the windows of her room towards the Jardin des Luxembourg. "henry I mean it. Whatever it is that you want, I can't help you."

"Got any wine?" asked the Scotsman bemusedly as he took lengthy strides out into the parlour. Amorette followed to find him pouring two glasses of wine. She refused to take the one he offered her and scowled at him, sure that he was up to some mischief.

"How did you get into my rooms? I thought you'd have left Paris by now." Amorette pushed away the wine glass that he offered to her for a second time.

Henry let out a long sigh as he sat down on a couch and Amorette perched on the arm of the couch opposite him, still clutching the pistol. "You know I received letters from the French Queen lass! I know about the tunnels that run beneath the palace and I know that they lead directly to the Queen's own rooms and yours. I thought I'd pay you a little visit as I'm leaving tomorrow. After your little game with Buckingham even you will admit that you owe me at least a few minutes of your time."

Amorette did feel bad about tricking one of her oldest friends but she knew that she had done it for the right reasons. "Henry I am sorry about that but I did it for your own good. Your wild plans to take back Scottish rule were going to get you killed. I've said it before; I don't want to lose another friend. You're an intelligent man who could do wonderful things if only you would put your mind to it."

Henry sighed from his position opposite her and leaned back against the couch. He nodded slowly to show that he understood what she had said. "I know you meant well, but I just don't like being a part of any schemes that Buckingham has cooked up. I've made contact with the right people here in Paris over the last few months but it seems your French peers are too damn frightened to act. Some will supply me with gold and weapons but they have yet to pledge any men to me. I've been away from Scotland for too long. The clan is in uproar and my uncle recalled me over a month ago. I'm facing just as much trouble in my homeland as I do in England right now. My family is unhappy about my flight to France. I don't regret it but they saw it as a shirking of my duties. That castle you came upon me in was my charge. I abandoned it and left it at the mercy of rival clans. You see lass, I'm about a lot more than just winning back home rule for Scotland."

"They've put a bounty on your head, haven't they?" Amorette asked then and she didn't quite know why. What she did know though, was that it was true.

Henry nodded again. "I wasn't going to tell you because I thought you would blame yourself for dragging me away. It was no fault of yours. I was planning to leave that castle and march on England once I had amassed enough support in Scotland anyway. The truth is, that the clan have disowned me and once I step foot on Scottish soil again I will be risking my life."

"What could you have done to deserve such punishment Henry?" cried Amorette. "Surely that isn't simply because you left a castle unmanned?"

Henry chuckled. "No lass. The Campbell Clan is loyal to the Stuart family and always has been. As such they are now loyal to the English monarchy. I'm going against everything that my family believes in. it wasn't until I left Scotland that my uncle realised what I had been plotting. Now, if I return to the clan it's on pain of death."

"Then why on earth are you going back?" demanded Amorette. "Go somewhere else! Or stay here in France. I know you may not consider Paris as somewhere that you could stay but you could travel south. I don't know why you don't just give all of this up and forget these mad delusions. You cannot seriously think that you will achieve this goal? Just who is it that you hope to place upon the Scottish throne if you win it back?" When Henry stared at her blankly Amorette let out a roar of laughter. "You don't even know do you? So you were planning to march on London with only a few hundred men to win back home rule for Scotland and you have no heir with claim to the Scot's throne to present! Parliament would have laughed you all the way into the highlands. No, they'd have killed you all before you even got across London bridge!"

Henry jumped up from the couch, a growl of distaste leaving his lips. "What on earth would the daughter of an Englishman and a Frenchwoman know of Scottish politics? You're still a child for Christ's sake!"

"I clearly know more than you do!" Amorette stood up to meet Henry's angry gaze with only a small table between them both. "I know you could have brought a peaceful campaign to parliament and fought with words and intelligence but instead you would try to sack the English King through violent means. You would have been leading your men to their deaths. Martyrdom is not going to help Scotland in any way. The English would crush your revolt before it even got off the ground and not even in Scotland would they remember you fondly. Scottish rebellions would only make matters worse for the Scottish people. But then you didn't think about that did you? How like a typical young lord with more money than wits or sense to think only of the final outcome? Did you not consider the anguish and disruption your actions would cause? Trying and failing in all of your schemes would bring Scotland to its knees. The English lords in Scotland would take out their anger on the common Scottish people. You'd be starting a civil war in your own country and in turn more people who do believe in your cause would begin to disbelieve it. I don't need to know a great deal about Scotland because you see, I know you. I know you are rash and hot-headed! You'll charge in without thinking things through properly and get yourself killed."

"I don't think you have the right to claim to know me Cometess! You know a young boy who toed the line and followed English lords and swore fealty to them because he did not know the true meaning of loyalty. Do you really think those Englishmen would have supported and fought for me as I fought for them? No! But then you would'nae understand that would you? Your father is one of the wealthiest men in England and I know you believe in his cause despite your many grievances with him." Henry backed away a little then, perhaps aware that his anger was getting the better of him.

"I may not cling to politics and religion as the complete staples of my life Henry but that is because I've learnt from my own family. The things I take value in are much more important to my own life and needs. I value friendship and love above all else. When we really look at the world there is nothing else stronger than love to hold us up. In time power and money corrupt even the best of men. I've seen it happen many times with my own eyes. Why do you think I'm pleading with you now? Take the advice of someone who cares for you as a true friend should and not from some war council who only care about the strength of your arm and the weight of the gold in your pocket!"

Henry stormed towards Amorette with his finger pointed sternly at her. "Have you never wondered Amorette, why you are in such a sorry state? Hiding yourself from the world because you loved someone and he didn't share those feelings. You may have clung to love and friendship and tried to keep your nose clean but where would you be if only you'd taken action? If you'd only had the initiative to deal with your father in the correct manner, he would have been long dead! You have a rather wondrous political position and a fortune that could be put to use and could have made you great. Instead you let love drive you into misery and despair and that has left you incapable of fighting for anything-"

"That's not true!" Amorette snarled.

"Yes it is lass!" Henry was almost nose to nose with her now. "Who is it that you have chosen to marry eh? Someone with good political alliance who could protect and care well for you? Someone with good standing who has the ability to raise an army should he so need one? No, you have chosen a poet! You have chosen a man who barely warrants the name! an intelligent and wealthy woman like you could have changed countries if only you'd let yourself! Instead you marry some penniless playwright who will whisper pretty sonnets in your ear and that's about all! What exactly can he protect you from eh?"

Any sympathy or feelings of friendship that she may have still had for Henry Fitzgerald sank right down into the pit of Amorette's stomach. If that was what he really thought, then he had never really known her well at all. She didn't need the protection of wealth and power, nor did she want it. People who relied on wealth and power could be bought and usually for much less than everyone thought. No, love was the only real protection that would endure until the end. "Just stop Henry! Stop prattling and go! If I'd known you'd speak to me so I'd have locked you out before you could say a word of it! Just get out!"

Henry was staring at her incredulously, but neither had time to voice any more grievances for at that moment a soft click alerted them to the fact that someone had entered the room. Amorette looked towards the door that led out into the hallway with a small gasp. Athos stood in the doorway, an unreadable expression upon his face. He took precise steps into the room until he stood before them both. "Is everything alright?" he said with a pointed look to Amorette.

Amorette nodded stiffly. "Henry was just leaving!"

"Well it's all crystal clear now isn't it," chuckled Henry. "The Comte de la Feré here in Paris in the guise of a musketeer." Shaking his head admonishingly at her, Henry began to make his way towards the door as he spoke. "Really Amorette? I thought that stage of your life had passed you by, but I guess some things never change."

"Not that way!" Amorette cried. "You will go out the way you came in! People already talk enough without you adding my name to the mix." Amorette led Henry back into her bedchamber towards the linen cupboard. "Don't come upon me in such a way ever again Henry, do you understand me?"

With a light chuckle the Scotsman disappeared and Amorette felt a sudden tiredness overwhelm her. Dealing with Athos after all of that was not a pleasing thought. When she returned to the parlour Athos was watching her intently. "You should have called for someone when you found that man in your rooms!" came the gruff voice across the room towards her. "If anyone else had found him here they would have arrested him and perhaps you also! Have you considered how such a meeting may have ended if I had not called upon you?"

"Oh he wouldn't have hurt me Athos, he's my friend!" cried Amorette as she threw her pistol down onto a couch. Realising just how much her hands shook, she fisted them in the folds of her skirts.

"Really? Madam if that is the case then why is it that only now that he has left the room do you lay down your weapon?" Athos raised a brow and Amorette felt even more uncomfortable. When he looked at her like that she felt as if he could read her every thought.

Changing the subject quickly, Amorette asked "Why are you here Athos?"

For a moment there was silence as both parties remembered just what had happened the last time they had been alone in that very room together. Amorette's pulse quickened and her palms grew sweaty. She knew that she could muster the resolve to fight down whatever feelings and emotions that those memories brought forth though. It was the man before her that she was concerned about in that respect. She knew that Athos wouldn't hurt her but if he were to make advances towards her again would she have the power within her to resist him? She needed to for her own sake. Not in the least because now she could never be his to claim. She had a soon to be husband who was hopefully now on his return journey from Italy and wanted to stay true to him. She could not give into the flippant desires of Athos no matter how much she wanted to. Amorette knew that he saw her in a completely different light now due to recent events. Perhaps he even admired her. It was not the kind of admiration that Amorette wanted from him though, that could never be possible. No matter how well he could convince her otherwise he would still rise the next morning and leave her. She would soon be forgotten as his thoughts returned to her dead sister. Then Amorette would be even more bereft than she had been her whole life.

Letting herself float back into the room, Amorette was painfully aware of how Athos looked at her in that moment. She kept her eyes trained on the floor so as not to become bewitched by those blue orbs. "I came," he said after clearing his throat apprehensively, "To tell you that we paid a visit to those practitioners that the prostitute passed to you. They were not very forthcoming at all. The proprietor, a Madam Durand; remembers the young girl Nathaly and remembers selling her the Pennyroyal. They gave the instructions to use the concoction sparingly, one drop in some sweet tea each day for a month. They say she left with it and that was the last that they saw of her. They did say that it is not uncommon for women who wish to be rid of their unborn child in a quicker fashion to consume too much of the concoction at once and thus do harm to themselves. There is no evidence to say that any harm came to the girl on their premises." Amorette sank down onto one of the couches dejectedly. "You and Constance said that you thought she came from the direction of the river, so she could have befallen harm elsewhere in the city. We will investigate further but I wanted to tell you in person that it is not likely that we will ever have any definitive proof as to what happened."

Amorette screwed up her face in concentration for a second. "But Shauna said that those people, this Madam Durand was nasty and untrustworthy!"

"That they may well be the case Madam," said Athos as he took a seat opposite her, "But with no evidence to act upon we have no option but to look elsewhere and perhaps eventually shelve our investigation of this matter."

Amorette sighed heavily and nodded to show her understanding. She knew deep down that this was not Athos' fault, and that he had indeed done all that he could to help but surely too would share her fears that other young girls would come to harm if action was not taken. "I suppose I could concentrate on trying to get word to the girl's family." Those cold blue orbs watched her curiously and Amorette ducked her head and began to pull at a thread protruding from the folds of her skirt.

"There was nothing of value upon the girl's person, and you told me yourself that we do not have a surname or a town of birth to look into. I understand that you want to help Amorette, but I think we have all of the information that we will ever receive regarding this matter. You are welcome to try of course, but I wouldn't get your hopes up." Athos stood up as if to leave but at the last second he appeared to change his mind. He turned back to her with an apprehensive glance, as if he didn't know what answer he would receive. "What did he want, Fitzgerald?"

Amorette shook her head as she stood up. "I honestly don't quite know." She walked slowly towards the door as if she wanted to show Athos out. "He's angry that Buckingham and I foiled his scheme and I think he wants me to know that he'll keep trying. Aside from that though, I cannot fathom what he thinks I can help him with."

Instead of continuing to walk towards the door Athos instead took slow and deliberate steps towards her. "I don't like that Fitzgerald thinks he can approach you in your rooms like that. He came and went without anyone seeing him."

"It's not like that Athos!" Amorette rubbed her temples with firm fingers as she felt the beginnings of a headache emerge. "I've known Henry a long time! He came to my rooms when we were both children playing together and meant no harm; he means no more harm now than he did then! You came to my room too when I was a child. Henry means as much harm to me as you do Athos!"

Amorette was sure she saw Athos huff in frustration. "The child who meant no harm is no longer there Amorette. Even the lively young man who followed Buckingham everywhere resolutely is no longer present. Think upon just what he would do to the world we know if he had enough power-"

"Just how much of our conversation did you hear?" Amorette cried. "Clearly you had no need to ask what it was he wanted from me because you heard it all when you were standing behind that door!"

"Amorette please just hear what I have to say?" Athos took another step closer and Amorette took two backwards. She had no desire to be near him when they were alone after what had occurred last time. She his eyes flicker in recognition of her movements but he remained otherwise unaffected. "You may believe that Henry Fitzgerald is a patriot fighting for what many would see as a just cause. He speaks with intelligence and confidence and some of his plans may actually have some merit. I know that you feel sorry for him and hope that he gains some power or success in his own country to placate himself with but I want you to think on something else. What happens when he gets what he wants? What happens when Scotland has home rule and he has nothing left to fight for there? There are still wars for a man like Fitzgerald to fight in France or Spain and elsewhere and there will always be those willing to pay him to do so! You and I both know that the man can be bought! He followed Buckingham and a number of other English lords for many years despite his heritage and what his Scottish peers preached. That boy you thought that you knew so well all those years ago was not the real Henry Fitzgerald. The one who stood before you today is!"

"I think the same could be said for not just Henry but you also!" Amorette blurted out as she turned from him. She let out a sigh of defeat that she couldn't hold in any longer. She knew that Athos was right, but admitting that to him was rather painful.

"Did you not see his eyes Amorette?" Amorette turned to find Athos only a few inches from her and she jumped back again. "His eyes were enough to tell you all that you need to know. They were alive! Alive with adrenalin, power and anticipation. He won't be able to just give up that high. In all honesty, and I know you know this too; it will end one way or the other. Either Henry Fitzgerald will attain some goal of his and thus strive for more or he will meet a very sharp and quick end. What I'm trying to say is that soon he will no longer see you as a friend who is trying to help. He won't think of how much you care for him! If he has not already done so, he will begin to see you as someone who gets in the way and when his uses for you have run out he will cast you aside. I did hear your conversation with him just now. He spoke of your marriage to a lesser man than he. Perhaps he may even have married you himself if he could have done to entrap your power and wealth!"

Amorette let out a snort. "Athos I have no power!"

Athos smirked almost as if he knew that she was lying. "You have the ear of the Queen of France. You have a rather rambunctious father who likes nothing more than to unsettle humanity. You also unwillingly command respect wherever you go. You may not even notice it but you are thought highly of wherever you go and that is something that is very hard to be bought Madam. Actually, all of that is far more important than your wealth to him. If you were to speak for him, it could only better his situation."

Amorette grimaced. She had already spoken for Henry Fitzgerald to some of the French nobility. She was just glad they had not really been able to offer him much and that she had yet to speak to anyone of any real influence regarding the matter. She knew that Athos was right but she couldn't stand the thought of him laughing at her. When she finally lifted her head to look at him, what she saw was worse than mockery. It was pity. She was reassured by that. At least when he felt sorry for her Amorette had no desire to kiss him. The thought of him feeling almost shamed for her made Amorette sick to her stomach. She supposed that was what had always been there though. Athos knew he had hurt her all those years ago and that he still did so now. She would only ever be that hapless Mademoiselle with no mother and a father who hated her. She would always be the love-struck fool that followed him about with no hope of succeeding. Hadn't she always known that though? Why did she somehow begin to hope every time that he spoke to her that things would change? Suddenly Amorette wanted nothing more than to be free of him and to be alone.

Amorette had always thought the way to placate men was to agree with them wholly and completely. "I know you are right Athos. I shan't have anything more to do with Henry Fitzgerald. I decided that months ago after the incident on his ship when a knife met my shoulder. I appreciate you bringing it to my attention again."

Incredibly, Athos didn't turn and leave, nor did he stay in the same spot. He advanced closer and Amorette the nerves in the pit of her stomach begin to roil. Only a hairs breadth from her, Athos let a finger gently entangle itself in one of her loose curls. He closed his eyes then as if in pain and let out a barely audible sigh. Amorette couldn't help the shaky gasp that escaped her lips. She knew it wasn't fear or hesitance though. Her tendril of hair fell loose again in a snap. The hand fell to rest on her shoulder gently. "Do not worry yourself Madam. I will not renew the endeavours that were so shocking and unwelcome to you before."

With that Athos was gone from the room. Amorette's frantic heartbeat was all that she heard for an age as she stared at the doorway where Athos had vanished into the night.

 _ **I think I love that last scene a little bit. If you didn't get the slightest of references in Athos' last sentence, in my head it sounded almost like the Quote from Mr Darcy's letter in Pride and Prejudice…**_

"… _ **any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you."**_

 _ **I think both situations carry the same sentiment and feeling. I also like that Athos is turning into Mr Darcy a little bit! Although Amorette doesn't yet know it he is actually starting to feel like she has done for years! I hope Amorette lets Athos chase her for a while though, it's only fair!**_


	29. Chapter 29

_**(Babs, I fully intend to make Athos chase Amorette!)**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

A brisk walk in the cool morning air was rather soothing to Amorette's mind. She didn't let herself dwell on the fact that she had dreamt many times of taking such a walk through early morning Paris and stayed away from the river. She was desperate to try and do something to help the young women less fortunate than she was who lived in this city, some of them in its very streets. Nothing came to mind though and she found herself seeking out familiar faces on the still empty streets. She had hoped that she might see Shauna again to try and decipher what she had decided to do with the money that Amorette had given her but if it was too early for even the fishermen and the bakers, it was certainly too early for prostitutes.

At length Amorette did find herself crossing the river as the fog began to clear and the sun rose. She met Claude in the Latin Quarter and they stopped to purchase some fresh pastries for breakfast. Together they walked into the Jardin des Luxembourg as they ate and talked of what had happened the day before. Amorette was well aware that Claude had come from her lover's lodgings to meet her and whilst that did make her a little uncomfortable, she would much rather have had her friends company so she said nothing of the matter. Instead she told Claude what had occurred the evening before between herself and Athos. She conveniently left Henry Fitzgerald out of the conversation to save her curious friend developing any unwarranted suspicions. At length they both decided to call on Constance, and finding the D'artagnan's lodgings empty the only other option was to wander towards the musketeer garrison.

Amorette didn't know how long they stood in the garrison courtyard talking, and was more sure with each moment that passed that someone would come out and tell what would have looked like three women gossiping to move on. No one did however and at length D'artagnan joined them.

"I just wish there was something we could do to help," Amorette muttered. "Perhaps we could set up a trust or collection of some sort for the young unfortunate women of Paris?"

"That's certainly a good idea to think about," said D'artagnan.

Claude shook her head. "We will need more than just ourselves to back such a thing. We may have more than enough money to do such a thing but without the support of other wealthy ladies we will be a laughing stock or perhaps even frowned upon. We could go to the Queen and ask for her help."

Amorette shared a knowing glance with Constance. "If you wish to take that course of action I won't argue with you, but I'm afraid you'll have to petition the Queen alone Claude," she said.

"Have you still not spoken with her?" asked Constance.

Amorette shook her head. "In the mean time we will start a campaign for more financial backers then!" Amorette announced to try and shift the subject.

"Financial backers for what?" asked Porthos as he emerged through the archway with Athos and Aramis.

"Amorette and Claude want to start up a fund for the unfortunate women of Paris," Constance confirmed as the three men joined their group. "I think it's a wonderful idea. I'll help any way I can."

Athos sighed heavily. "There are already numerous funds of the like, but there will always be one more poverty stricken woman than accounted for. Why not simply donate some money to one of the already thriving funds and save yourselves the hassle?"

Amorette let her jaw drop open in shock at his apparent unfeeling tone. "We want to take action to do something to help these women Athos! I want to campaign for our own fund so that we know that every single coin goes where it should."

Athos simply shrugged and began to turn away. For a moment Amorette thought that he may have prematurely indulged in some alcohol but D'artagnan's next question had her wondering. "How did things go with Madam Durand this morning?" the young Gasçon asked his fellow soldiers.

"You went back?" Gasped Amorette. Was Athos' surly mood really because yet again Madam Durand had not given him the information that he wanted. She felt something warm and comforting unfurl in the pit of her stomach for Athos and his gruffness. The reality was that he wanted to help the young women of Paris just as much as she did, and he was angered because the accused would not be frank with him.

"She still wouldn't tell us anything," said Aramis.

"No wonder," muttered Constance. "Look at you all! A woman like that is hardly going to tell musketeers anything! Her services are not illegal but they may as well be! She won't want to risk any blame being placed at her door no matter how small!"

Amorette gasped. "That's it! She won't tell you anything because you are men! But if a woman were to go to her in the guise of a customer then perhaps she would let something slip!"

"And who do you propose we send into her workshop Madam?" Athos' sharp eyes glared at Amorette and she was almost certain that he knew just what she was thinking.

"Well…" Amorette grimaced, not liking her idea any more than any of her friends would once they had heard it. "We cannot send just anyone. A young girl from the streets would not come back out alive if she were to go there, no matter how much money she took with her. The only option is to send someone well known, who has people to come looking for her not long after she is missed!"

"No." Athos didn't shout, and it wasn't a gruff mutter either. It was a simple statement that the whole group heard.

"Oh come on Athos! I'll go down there and have a look around. I'll ask a few questions and if need be I'll say that I'm enquiring for a friend!" Amorette gazed at her old friend pleadingly but he seemed unrelenting.

"It's completely out of the question Mademoiselle! How are we to know that your nobility would protect you at all! If these people really are what we think they are, I doubt they care very much for your position within society!" Athos shook his head in disbelief as Amorette continue to stare at him. "You are right in saying that may be our only option, but it is not one that we will be taking!"

Amorette took the chance to look around her at the rest of the group. Everyone seemed reluctant to enter into what was sure to be another argument between herself and Athos. She caught Aramis' eye and decided to turn her imploring eyes upon him. He smirked almost instantly as he realised what she was trying to do and shook his head at her ever so slightly. "Athos, mademoiselle Amorette does make a very valid point that a man entering into such an environment cannot hope to gain any worthy answers to his questions. We need to think on that. In this case though I do think I agree with you in that the risks outweigh any plight for justice." Aramis words seemed to calm the rest of the group a little and Amorette realised that they all thought the argument all but over now.

"Well I'm afraid that you have an ultimatum on your hands Messieurs!" announced Amorette. "I'm going to go to this Madam Durand and ask my questions and you can choose whether to help me or not!"

D'artagnan threw a glance to Constance straight away. "Constance, no!"

Constance sighed and Claude immediately stepped forward. Amorette shook her head slowly. "Claude I cannot ask you to come with me in your condition. I'll go myself. Perhaps it will look more believable that way too!"

Claude's expression changed from one of determination to outrage in a matter of seconds. "Mademoiselle Amorette is right," said Aramis with a pointed look to Claude. "In your condition Madam we cannot permit you to accompany anyone to speak with Madam Durand!"

Claude raised a hand and pointed her finger at Aramis. "I have no shame in telling any of you that the child I currently carry was not fathered by my husband and said husband could care less what I do with my time and whether I live or die. My husband is the only man who can tell me what I can and cannot do. As such not one of you will tell me where I can and cannot go." Claude stepped forward and grabbed Amorette's hand and squeezed it tightly.

Amorette saw Athos glance towards her as he opened his mouth to speak. "And I have no husband to speak of!" she cried. "Until such a man is in existence, I too will have no one ordering me about. You heard what I said! Either help us or don't. it's entirely up to you!"

Three hours later and standing on the corner of the Rue du Murier in a gentle rain, Amorette still didn't regret her decision. She was a little worried about what might be about to happen, but she was determined to go through with it none the less. She had returned to her own rooms to change into her best dress and to fetch a purse of gold coins. She had then returned to the Garrison with Claude where Athos had drilled their plan they had formed into her again and again. Claude grabbed her hand tightly as they both gave one last look over their shoulders to where four musketeers stood in the distance before turning towards Madam Durand's premises. From the outside, the establishment looked nothing dissimilar to a slightly eccentric apothecary selling some of the more unusual herbs and spices. When Amorette pushed open the door and entered the shop with Claude following closely behind, she was slightly disheartened. The shop front looked as it ought to have done with dried herbs in jars all about the room and large books on plant-life strewn across the counter. Claude stepped forward and thumbed through one of the books whilst Amorette began to lift the lids of some of the jars nearby. Both women didn't really know what it was that they were looking for, but Amorette knew that they would more than likely need to speak with the proprietor to get anywhere near the answers that they wanted to find.

At length they had both exhausted looking through the books and jars and Amorette turned her attention towards a curtained doorway that she knew must lead to the back rooms of the shop. There was silence except for the slightest of taps of their heeled shoes on the tiled floor so Amorette decided to venture a glance through the curtain. What she saw was not a back room but in fact a flight of steps leading down into a cellar. The musketeers had not been sure whether it would be stairs or another room beyond the curtain. Amorette listened for a few minutes but could hear no sound from the lower floor. She could feel Claude's rather shaky hand clinging to the back of her dress.

"Claude if you want to turn back, then go. I'm not asking you to go down there with me!" Amorette removed Claude's hand from her dress and gave it a tight squeeze of reassurance.

"Amorette I'm not leaving you to go down there alone but I don't think we should venture any further." Claude sniffed a little as frightened tears sprang to her eyes. "I think Athos was right. This is too dangerous."

"Leave then Claude! Go now before someone comes along and sees you!" Amorette pushed away from her friend and lowered her foot onto the first step. At once Claude let out a yelp and grabbed the back of her dress again.

"It'll look more convincing if you've brought a friend for moral support," muttered Claude as she tried to convince herself more so than Amorette.

"Stop worrying so," Amorette whispered even though there was a knot of worry building in her own stomach. "As soon as we disappear from sight of the front windows the musketeers will be waiting just across the street."

They crept on down the flight of stairs into a dark candlelit room. Immediately the almost overwhelming scent of incense hit Amorette and she had to cover her mouth to stifle a cough. There were more jars of herbs and books in the room but everything seemed to look so sinister in the darkness. There was a fire burning furiously in the grate that made the room almost too hot to bear and a long table ran the breadth of the room. There was also a smaller table around which were seated four dark leather armchairs. Something about the room had Amorette thinking that they would find the sickening answers they were searching for and more. Again they began to search but nothing stood out to either of them.

At length Claude gave up and lowered herself into one of the armchairs. "Where do you suppose this Madam Durand is then?" she hissed. "This shop seems deserted."

"I'm not sure," muttered Amorette. "But would you rather that she was here to watch us searching her shop Claude? It is strange that the door should be unlocked but I suppose we must think on the fact that I don't think anyone in Paris would want to steal anything. I don't know what most of these herbs and potions are and I'm well educated for goodness sake." At that moment the glass jar that Amorette was holding in her hand slipped a little. She caught it before it dropped, but that didn't stop it clinking loudly against the other jars on the shelf.

Almost at once the sound of footsteps from beyond another set of curtains had Claude jumping to her feet and Amorette backing away from the shelf. The curtain hooks grated against the curtain pole as the dark fabric was drawn back a little to let a tall woman emerge into the room. She was not what Amorette had expected at all. Amorette had thought that Madam Durand would appear to be an ordinary Parisian working class woman well able to hide her evil intentions but the woman before her now was wholly different. Amorette didn't know why she had expected Madam Durand to look unassuming, but the sallow stretched skin that was pulled taught over high cheekbones and a hooked nose seemed to fit the descriptions that she had been given of the woman so far. Heavy black hair was pulled severely back to sit in a messy coif on the woman's head and there was the distinct lack of grace about her. She walked strangely, throwing her legs out as a man would have done having just climbed down from his horse's saddle.

Amorette heard her own sharp intake of breath as the woman turned beady eyes on them both. Although the woman had yet to introduce herself, Amorette was in no doubt that she was certainly Madam Durand. Why though, would any young woman choose to come here to seek the help of such a frightening woman?

"Can I help you Mesdames?" simpered the woman and Amorette immediately knew that she was not a native Parisian.

"We… were just looking for something to help a friend of ours who has been out of sorts," rushed Claude in reply.

Madam Durand seemed to take Claude's excuse with a pinch of salt and Amorette knew that she would have to step in to try and diffuse the mounting tension. "In truth Madam we were recommended to you, but I cannot tell you by whom. I do not wish to break anyone's trust," she lied, "But this friend of ours has found herself in a predicament and I was told I could come to you for some advice on…ah… removing the predicament."

Madam Durand let out a rather sickening chuckle. "I'm afraid that I do not give out advice to 'friends' of my customers. Your friend shall return here alone with her predicament and I will speak with her myself! Good day Mesdames!"

The woman turned to leave and Amorette groaned inwardly at what she knew she was about to do. "Wait, please Madam! The friend I speak of is in fact here-"

"This is her?" Madam Durand interrupted with a glance to Claude. "If so then I'm afraid I cannot help. My services are only offered to those still in their first trimester. Your friend is far too fat now for me to be of any help."

"Oh goodness no, Madam Morreaux here is perfectly happy with her condition I assure you," whispered Amorette as she reluctantly stepped closer to the woman. "The friend that I speak of is me!"

Amorette placed her hand across her stomach for emphasis and tried to shape her expression to look lost and desperate. "Well why didn't you say so?" Madam Durand laughed and led them back towards the armchairs. When they were all seated she placed her beady gaze firmly on Amorette. "Well child how far along are you?"

Amorette swallowed a large gulp. A thought had just entered her head so bold and imaginative that she was scared to even think through it again. If the musketeers caught Madam Durand in the action of trying to inhumanly dispose of someone's unwanted child, then they would have reasonable grounds to arrest her. "I'm only a few weeks," she said gently. The fear in Amorette's voice wasn't entirely put on. "It cannot be any more than that, I'm certain of it. You see I am to be married soon and I cannot marry whilst I carry another man's child Madam. You understand?"

Madam Durand frowned and nodded, almost like a disapproving mother. "I do understand your predicament but a fine young woman such as yourself should be more than aware of how to guard yourself against such a dilemma. The truth is that I can help you, but how am I to be sure that you will not be back on my doorstep begging for help again in a month's time? What I can offer is only a quick solution for now. You must ensure that you are more careful in future!"

Amorette felt sickened to hear such words of motherly admonishment from the woman that had certainly had a hand in Nathaly's death if she had not killed the girl herself. She was even more surprised when Claude spoke up. "We cannot help who we love though Madam. My friend has had to break from the man she has loved all her life to marry for duty's sake. They will not see each other again." Amorette really did feel nauseous. The story that she and Claude were concocting did feel a little too close to home.

Amorette watched Madam Durand's eyes soften in apparent sympathy but Amorette was sure that she didn't believe the woman capable of such a sentiment. "Well," the older woman began as she got up from her chair and approached the shelves along the wall. She moved jars around as she searched and eventually she pulled free a small vial of clear liquid. Approaching the table, she set it before Amorette and took her seat again. "This is Pennyroyal. One drop in sweet tea every evening for one month will rectify the situation."

Amorette chanced a quick look in Claude's direction before crying "One month? No Madam I need something quicker than that! Is there nothing else you might try? Some other method?" From the folds of her skirts Amorette pulled two thick gold twenty-four Livre coins. "I am willing to pay whatever it takes. The money is yours if you will help me!"

Amorette was almost sure that her shaking hands would give her away as she pushed the coins towards the woman who looked at them greedily. "The Pennyroyal mixture is usually priced at four Livres as it is the simplest method if used correctly, but there is another."

"What is the other method? What does it entail?" badgered Amorette as Madam Durand rose with the vial of Pennyroyal and retreated to the shelves again. For a long moment the woman didn't answer and then she returned to the table with a cup of strongly brewed sweet tea.

"This will help with your nerves child," she said as she took her seat again. "The truth is if I was to tell you of the other method it may frighten you. I'd rather not tell you and simply get on with it. It will be painful and you will need a few days' rest afterwards but in a weeks' time you should be fully restored to health. The child within you will die instantly though. There will be no month of waiting."

Amorette gave a pretend sigh of relief and took a large gulp of the sweet tea. "Thank you for your advice Madam. I have somewhere I must be today, but I will return later to take you up on your services."

As Amorette and Claude made to stand the woman threw her arms out to stop them. "You cannot go now child. If you go about your business and really think on what I have told you then you will not come back. Think of what is best for you! You can be rid of this predicament and marry this future husband of yours safely in the knowledge that you are not harbouring someone else's child. You seem so sure right now of the path to take so you must take it." Madam Durand's apparent tone of care was not something that would have affected Amorette had she really been pregnant. The pretence of motherly care and advice was something that only added to the creepiness of the whole situation. Amorette took another large gulp of tea as she tried to think of a reply, nearly emptying the cup. "Child I must ask your friend to leave now though!"

Amorette immediately grabbed Claude's wrist. "No I'd like her to stay!"

The heavy sound of footsteps had Amorette swivelling in her seat towards the curtained doorway where a tall, heavily set man stood. "Mesdames this is my son Wiatt. Your friend cannot stay child. There is enough trouble dealing with you fainting during the procedure without your friend also." One look at the menacing Wiatt had Amorette nodding swiftly to Claude. Her friend was being offered an open opportunity to leave which she should not refuse. Amorette would work out how to get out of the disturbing shop herself. Claude seemed baffled by Amorette's decision but as Wiatt stepped forward into the room to lead her towards the door she seemed to rethink her protests. "Don't stray too far from the shop door though Madam. Your friend will need help walking home when this is done." Amorette sucked in a frightened breath and hurriedly looked to her friend who shared with Amorette a knowing glance just before she turned the corner and disappeared from view on the staircase. In minutes Claude would have sent the musketeers down into the strange cellar below the shop and Amorette didn't mind them tarnishing her plan. All that she wanted now was to leave but she didn't know how to with Madam Durand's hawk-like eyes watching her every move and reaction. Had she been wrong to present those two coins? The woman would know now that Amorette had much more money concealed about her person. Would they rob her blind and then throw her out onto the street if they had the chance, or would they kill her for her money?

Amorette gave a start when Wiatt followed Claude up the stairs. "Do not worry child. Wiatt simply goes to lock the doors to preserve your modesty. Come with me to the table will you?" Madam Durand held out a bony hand for Amorette to take and when she stood the whole room spun on its axis. Amorette clutched her mouth for fear that she would be violently sick. "That will be the tea working then!"

"What?" snarled Amorette as she tore her hand from the woman's grip.

"I put a drop of Pennyroyal in your tea to dull the senses a little. Trust me, you'll thank me for it when this is all over." With that Madam Durand led Amorette rather haphazardly towards the table and patted the middle of it. "The drug can cause an ill feeling the first time it is taken, but hopefully you will not be in as much pain because of it."

Amorette managed to slide herself onto the table and was promptly pushed back so that she was lying down. Seeing a shadow looming from the corner she turned to find Wiatt back in the room. "What is he doing here?" she asked a little incredulously.

"He is here to hold you down child," muttered Madam Durand as she bustled about the table. She stopped as if remembering something and loomed over Amorette. "You never did mention who the father's child was Mademoiselle?"

Amorette's mind jarred for a few seconds and she was sure that she would be caught in her lie. "Musketeer…he's a musketeer."

"That's funny…" Madam Durand threw a suspicious look towards her son. "There were musketeers poking around here asking questions last night and again this morning about some poor girl that died."

"The father doesn't know!" Amorette cried to try and buy more time. "He cannot know. I'll never see him again now that I am to be married."

She didn't know why, but Amorette's lie seemed to placate the older woman a little. Amorette observed Wiatt through heavy lidded eyes and noted the broad and strong shoulders that threatened a mass of strength. It occurred to her then that Wiatt had yet to speak and she brought her gaze to rest on his face. His cold and hard features reminded her of a statue carved from marble. Those large hands would surely cause some damage in a fight. As a pair of menacingly beady black eyes met Amorette's she tore her gaze away. The man before her had been the one to hurt Nathaly, she was sure of it. Deciding that she wanted to leave now, Amorette placed her hands flat on the table to push herself up but found that she couldn't. Cold metal pressed against her wrists and Amorette realised that she was chained to the table. She let out a yelp of fright as Madam Durand loomed over her again. "I've changed my mind! Let me go now, I've changed my mind! Amorette screamed out the signal sentence as loudly as she could and sure enough, above them the thundering heavy footsteps across the shop floor began.

"Hush now, you'll be glad when it's over I assure you Mademoiselle!" simpered Madam Durand.

"You don't understand!" Amorette gave up all pretence and began to kick out at Wiatt when he grabbed her ankles to hold her down. "I'm not with child! I'm not carrying a child!"

Madam Durand stilled above Amorette as she stared at her. Amorette couldn't read the woman's expression as she glanced towards the celling and the sounds of footsteps. Then from nowhere a knife was in Madam Durand's hand and she tore open the bodice of Amorette's dress. A few of the decorative beads broke from their fastenings and flew into the air. Amorette sucked in a horrified breath as the woman reached for the hem of Amorette's corset and plunged her hand underneath it. Feeling Amorette's flat stomach, a disgusted look crossed her face.

The knife disappeared and Madam Durand lifted an oddly shaped metal contraption that Amorette had never seen the like of before but strangely; she knew suddenly in that instant what it was used for. She let out another cream as she felt Wiatt taking the coin purse from her pocket and then begin to bunch up her skirts. She kicked out at him ferociously, her feet colliding with his face numerous times. A deafening crack told her that the door had burst open and then it all descended into chaos. Any medical instruments or glass jars that Madam Durand had close at hand she threw across the room as her son reached for his musket. Shots flew back and forth across the room and Amorette couldn't discern the shouts amid the din.

She didn't know that anyone was near her until she felt the chains slide from her wrists and she was yanked up from the table to press against a broad chest. Clinging to the Lapels of Athos' doublet Amorette let him walk backwards towards the doorway as he still fired shots. Amorette kept her face turned into his chest, smelling that unique scent of faint leather, gunpowder and the garrison. There was something else there too; something that Amorette remembered from her earliest childhood. It was not strong enough to be a cologne, but she remembered it all the same. She tuned out the room and focused on only that as they moved backwards still. Athos' hand was clamped firmly around her waist, his hand splayed against her corset underneath what must now resemble more of a doublet than a dress bodice. Amorette didn't care though.

The touch of a gloved hand to her cheek had Amorette starting. Athos pulled her chin up gently to look at her, taking in her dazed eyes. Without hearing his unspoken question, she answered, "She gave me tea to drink. There was Pennyroyal in it. It's made me feel ill but I'm not hurt."

Athos nodded slowly, turning to Aramis who came up on her other side. "Take her back to the garrison, Porthos and D'artagnan can handle things here I expect."

Later on, Amorette wouldn't recall their walk back to the garrison. Her first memory of it all would be sitting at the worn table with Athos at her side, Claude looking on worriedly and Aramis facing her. "I sent Claude back this way to fetch some things just in case. I couldn't be sure that you would need it but I mixed some dried herbs with the wine that will counteract the Pennyroyal. It may make you feel sick Mademoiselle but let it run its course."

Aramis pushed a glass towards her and Amorette threw the marksman an apprehensive look before taking a sip of the wine. It tasted rather unremarkable so she gulped the rest of the drink down. For a few seconds everyone was watching for her reaction. She shrugged. "Nothing, I feel fine." It was true. Her eyes regained complete focus and her weariness was beginning to ware off. Just when Amorette thought she had gotten away with it her stomach lurched and Amorette threw herself sideways towards a bucket to the right of her feet. She'd have fallen from her chair with the force of it had Athos not clamped an arm around her waist. He held her up as she emptied her stomach into the bucket.

At length the retching subsided and she was able to sit up on her own, feeling far better with the drug completely gone from her system. She could feel tiredness creeping in again though. By the time that Athos walked herself and Claude back to the palace an hour later, Amorette was almost sleeping on her feet. They left Claude at the turn of the staircase and carried on towards Amorette's own rooms. She let Athos throw open the door and she trudged in, ready to throw herself down onto one of the couches but to her astonishment someone was already sitting there. She gave a yelp of surprise as she glimpsed the shock of blonde curls before she threw herself across the room into Fabien's arms.

 _ **So Fabien has returned! This is probably my least favourite chapter but it was one of the pivotal scenes I had in my head at the beginning and it wouldn't have felt right to leave it out.**_


	30. Chapter 30

_**CHAPTER 30!?**_

 _ **Never did I think I would be sitting at chapter 30 with this story! I had the plan all laid out but I was worried and underestimated myself that I wouldn't even get half way through. I'm more determined than I ever was to stick with it until the end now. I also didn't realise how long this story would be. One bullet point in my plot plan seems to flesh itself out into pages and pages (or even a whole chapter in the case of the last one). It almost feels like I'm on the home run now with this, not that its finishing any time soon! Still quite a bit of a story left to tell!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

The Lover Mourns for The Loss of Love

Pale brows, still hands and dim hair,  
I had a beautiful friend  
And dreamed that the old despair  
Would end in love in the end:  
She looked in my heart one day  
And saw your image was there;  
She has gone weeping away.

 _William Butler Yeats_

* * *

The disbelief in Fabien's eyes at Amorette's dishevelled state was to be expected. He jumped up from the couch to meet her as she threw herself into his arms. She sensed rather than saw him throw a questioning glance towards Athos over her shoulder. Pulling away gently she let him seat her on the couch beside him as Athos explained what had happened. Amorette felt like she wasn't in the room by the way the two men spoke and it left her mind open to overthinking. She had wanted to help in some way and she supposed that she had, so why did she still feel so hollow inside about the whole matter.

"Well I think even Athos will agree that once we are married all of this will have to stop!" said Fabien.

"What?" Amorette asked as she snapped back to attention.

Fabien thought that she had heard him and simply disagreed. "All of this meddling and getting yourself into predicaments. I understand that you want to help and that you want to stand up for what you believe in but I'm marrying you so that we can spend the rest of our lives together. That won't happen if you keep throwing caution to the wind. I don't want to change you or stop you from being exactly who you are but I don't want to worry myself to distraction every day that I'll come home to find you've done something drastic."

Fabien and Amorette jerked around, having forgotten that Athos is in the room with them. He took his leave of them rather hastily with promises of keeping Amorette informed of any new developments. Amorette did feel a slight pang of guilt that he had been forced to witness Fabien's unapologetic protestations but there had been little she could have done to stop them. With Athos gone she turned back to Fabien who was clutching both of her hands in his.

"I'm serious Amorette. I want you to have more of a care for your own life. I know that will be hard. You've always been alone and have taken care of yourself for a great many years which has instilled a sense of independence in you. I don't want to take any of that away from you but I do want you to know that you can rely on me. I want to protect and take care of you." Fabien Sighed, seemingly unsure what to say next. "Whilst I was in Italy I thought a great deal on the fact that you have not really had a protective male figure in your life who has sought to take care of you in the way that you would like. I know you have friends who treat you well and look out for you but I know how much your father's treatment of you has affected every decision you make. I want to be a husband that you can be proud of!"

Amorette felt another pang of guilt. She knew that Fabien wanted her to fulfil the marriage dreams that she had thought non-existent and that he did mean well in all that he said. She had opened up to him more than she thought she ever would have though and at a rather fast pace. She vowed to simply carry on in the same way as before now that he had returned to her. "How was Italy? Is everything resolved?" Amorette asked to try and shift the conversation in a new direction.

"Would you believe," sighed Fabien, "That the cold hearted cow wouldn't even see me? I spoke with her brother at great length, who I have always been friendly with but even when I called on her repeatedly she would not speak with me. She knows I am to be married. Her brother told me that he thinks it may have been a little jealousy on her part but that is no problem of mine. I'm rather inclined to believe she thought that the longer she kept me waiting, the longer I'd stay. She knows the truth and that she will never see me again now though. I had her brother speak with her on my behalf. It's done now. So all that's left or us to concern ourselves with is our upcoming nuptials!"

Fabien squeezed Amorette's hands tightly and grinned at her. She couldn't help smiling back. "I've missed you whilst you've been away. I've had no one to talk to at night!"

"I have missed you a great deal too Mademoiselle. So much so," said Fabien as he reached for his bag on the floor, "That I managed to get quite a lot of work done on my journey. I think my latest script is pretty much complete but I have some poetry which you may find interest in. I do believe I thought only of you when I wrote."

Amorette felt her jaw slacken and drop. Here sat an intelligent worldly man before her who had immortalised her in his works. Granted, Amorette did not know whether he had written of her in a good light or not but something within her couldn't help feeling a sense of wonder that such a man with a heart that was worth its weight in gold had chosen her of all people as his muse. Perhaps it was better that she didn't read his work. Whilst she admired poetry that described wondrous beauty as every woman did, Amorette knew that kind of poetry written about herself would only make her feel uncomfortable. It was almost like sitting for a portrait with someone's concentrated gaze upon her for hours. That kind of poetry whilst lovely was fickle and very often untrue. If that was the kind that Fabien had written for her and about her then what would he feel years from now when he looked back on it all. She would not always look as she did in that moment and if that was all that there was to write about where their relationship was concerned, then what was the point? No, Amorette wanted something with a little more depth. She knew that Fabien was certainly capable of that kind of poetry, but would he have enough love for her to convey it into his work?

"Fabien I know that you mean well by that but if I'm honest it makes me feel uncomfortable. I'm flattered of course, but you know that I am not one to take a compliment well. I don't know why on earth you would think of me when you write these poems of love and great beauty. It's not that I don't appreciate it of course. I just cannot imagine how I could inspire any of it at all." Amorette squirmed as Fabien held out a leather-bound journal towards her.

"Amorette I know exactly what you are like. I know that you don't believe anyone when they complement you. You look at the floor because it makes you uncomfortable and argue that the dress really doesn't become you or that you don't look remarkably pretty. You've never felt that anyone really meant it when they complimented you and that saddens me. I want you to begin to see yourself how others see you. This version of yourself that you have created in your head is so removed from who you really are that you'll never believe anyone when they truthfully admire you. I know most of this is your father's doing, but I know how strong and determined you are. You've never let anything that man says with regards to any other aspect of your life have any effect. When he tried to take your money and property you fought it tooth and nail because you knew that it was your birth-right and that he had no claim to it. You told me yourself how adamantly you defended your friends to him countless times but why would you not do so for your own self?"

Amorette shook her head meekly. She tried to pull away a little but Fabien held onto her hands firmly. "Sometimes…" Amorette paused, not sure how to put her thoughts into words. "People say things that they do not mean. That's what court is all about. People come here to the Louvre to simper and smile at people they secretly cannot stand. I've always known that. I learned it first from my father and then my sister. I hate the pomp and ceremony. I came back to Paris not because I wanted to but as a favour to a friend. The only person who makes me feel at ease with all of it is Buckingham. I know many here think him a scoundrel but he is my friend. Without his guidance I'd fail miserably at all of this."

Fabien released one of her hands to gently touch her cheek. "I wish you saw yourself through my eyes Amorette. Do you know…the very first day I met you and you were rambling on about your riddle you were desperate to solve, all passion and desperation with your flushed cheeks and lively blue eyes the colour of the sky in the paintings of the Sistine chapel. Do you know how I felt that day? It was as if I were reading Romeo and Juliet or Anthony and Cleopatra all over again. The first time I sat down to read Shakespeare's work it took my breath away, as I'm sure it did for a great many people. Up until a short while ago I think it was the one clear defining moment where I felt that sense of wonder, that feeling that anything was possible. Until that day when I came across you, scampering about with your little riddle as if Shakespeare himself had dreamt you up!" Amorette gasped as Fabien grinned at her. "I'm not asking you to read all of what I wrote with you in mind, but there are one or two that may reassure you a little. I want to marry you because you are beautiful and because I think I'm falling in love with you!"

Amorette couldn't breathe. There it was, right there. The reason that women loved romantic poets was right there before her. Fabien spoke like no one Amorette had met before. Athos would never be able to speak of having a love that strong for her. She gingerly took the leather-bound book into her own hands and stared down at it. "Thank-you," she whispered to Fabien. "I know I'm terrible at all of this. I've never really known how to convey words or affections eloquently. I guess you are right. My mother was a woman with a lot of love to give but she never spoke of it or showed it for fear of retribution from my father. My father was cold and unfeeling; even hurtful and cutting at times. I will endeavour to try my best to let my walls come down that bit further. It will take time, but I promise to try. I'll also try to read your work."

Fabien smiled and kissed her gently. Pulling away after a few moments he said, "I won't force you to read it in front of me. I've a few errands to run and I'd like some friends of mine to read the script I've finished through with me. I'm sure you're exhausted after the day you've had so I'll leave you for a while. Of course if you'd rather that I stay with you I can get word to my friends?"

"No, go to your friends," Amorette smiled gently. "I'll be fine!"

Only when Fabien had left her rooms did Amorette chance to open the leather bound book before her. She flicked through pages and pages of Fabien's sprawling, looping handwriting. Amorette wasn't sure what she was looking for and some of the writing on the first few pages were dated before Fabien had gone to Italy. Deeper into the journal though the writing became more haphazard and untidy as if the writer had been rushing to transfer his words to page before they left his head. Eventually Amorette chose a page at random to begin reading.

 _I no longer see strength when I look at you_

 _For my fears long ago were gone with the morning dew._

 _Now I look at you and see only love unwavering,_

 _A love anew, a love I know is here and staying._

 _For now, I hear your song, a song like mine own,_

 _To think that once I thought to live life alone_

 _And showed no woes or cares for the beating of another heart,_

 _But with you gone I felt like a piece of broken art._

 _Wounded though I may have been_

 _For the first time I saw more clearly than I've ever seen,_

 _Saw a truth in the strength hidden all the while,_

 _A truth I'd ever dreamed of as a child._

 _That truth is love, a love for you and I,_

 _A truth ever immortal when together we die._

For what felt like an age Amorette simply sat with her hand over her mouth in shock. If she had ever been in any doubt of Fabien's feelings for her, she was not now. Something within her told her not to read any more. She closed the book with a snap and set it on the table before her. She rested back against the couch and wondered how she had ever doubted the man. Fabien really did want to make a life with her, and Amorette was beginning to see that as something to look forward to instead of something to fear. It would still take some time, but Amorette decided there and then that she would put all of her energy towards making their future a splendid one.

A familiar sharp rap on the door had Amorette jumping out of her reverie. Athos' head appeared around the door. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

Amorette supposed it would have been easy to mistake her relaxed posture on the couch for sleep. She shook her head. "Is there news?"

Athos let himself into the room and closed the door behind him. "The son is dead. It seems one of our musket balls hit its mark, but we cannot be sure who it belonged to."

"I cannot say that I am sorry to hear that," muttered Amorette as Athos took a seat on the couch opposite her. "I think that man may have been the one to hurt Nathaly you know. Although the mother might have had just as much of a hand in it. What of her?"

Athos nodded grimly as if he shared her thoughts. "I agree with you entirely. Whilst the girl's reflexes may have been hindered by the Pennyroyal, she would still have been able to put up somewhat of a fight against Madam Durand. The sheer size of the son however would not have been something that she would have had any hope against. Madam Durand is wounded, but not badly so. Thanks to you we have caught them in the act and therefore we have no need to question others upon the matter. Initially, she has decided to confess to her crimes. I think it was our presence and your good name that helped her come to the realisation that there was no getting away from what she had done or her punishment. Treville believes that she will be tried within a day or two. He has asked some physician friends of his to look over the condiments contained within those jars and vials within the shop as well. If there is something amiss to be found, we will find it."

Amorette nodded. The news still did not make her feel any better though. "How many other women have fallen victim to Madam Durand?" Amorette scratched her chin. "If Constance and I had not collided with Nathaly and you musketeers hadn't stepped in then those Red Guards would have carried her off and she probably would have been buried in some unmarked grave within the hour! Does no one have a care for these women of the streets?"

Athos sighed and Amorette knew by his confused expression that he didn't have a straight answer for her. "The thing is Mademoiselle that things of this nature happen so often and sometimes with little or no evidence of foul play at all. There is no way to successfully regulate those crimes and all others on the streets of Paris. You do not need me to tell you that the poorest people are amongst the most desperate. There will always be those that slip through the net and I know that is not a good thing but it is the truth. There is very little else that can be done that we are not already doing."

"I know that," Amorette sighed. "I just wish that I could do something! It makes me angry to just sit here and do nothing."

Athos leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He stared at her intently for a few seconds before saying, "I think you helped a great deal. Without your interference Madam Durand would not have been apprehended for her crimes. The particular crime committed against that girl would have gone unnoticed as you said. You have helped a great deal of people and you do not even know it! You gave that prostitute money didn't you?"

Amorette knew there would be no point in lying. She knew by the way Athos' eyes bore into hers that he already knew the answer. "I gave her enough to get herself home to Ireland should she so wish it."

"You do know that the money you have given that woman is more than likely already squandered away?" Athos leaned back again. "Without the real inclination or determination to change their lives, the poorest of Paris are more likely to think that any money they earn is better spent on indulgences because they do not believe that they can truly better themselves." Amorette knew deep down that Athos was right and made no argument. For a moment there was silence as she hoped he would not pick up Fabien's journal that rested on the small table between them. "What of Henry Fitzgerald then?" asked Athos suddenly. "Has he commenced his return journey to Scotland yet?"

"I have no idea," said Amorette curiously as a thought crossed her mind. Jumping up she grabbed a coat and threw it over her shoulders. Athos was staring at her incredulously. "That's it! If Shauna won't help herself get home, then perhaps she needs a push in the right direction."

Without waiting to hear what Athos said next Amorette tore out of her rooms and down the corridors of the Louvre. She heard Athos calling to her as he followed but she didn't stop until she dashed through the entrance hall and out into the cool evening air. Slowing her run to a brisk walk she let Athos catch up with her as they made their way along the Rue Saint Honoré towards Les Halles. Along the way Amorette explained to Athos that if Henry Fitzgerald had not yet left port, she intended to persuade him to take Shauna with him on the journey.

After a while searching the streets with no sign of Shauna Athos grabbed Amorette's arm and turned her to face him. "Mademoiselle this is a waste of time; you cannot hope to find one woman amongst all of the creatures of the night that stalk Paris!"

"Then help me!" Amorette snarled as she pulled her arm from his grip and carried on walking.

For another hour they searched without success, with Athos having to step in to prevent Amorette from being pick-pocketed numerous times.

The fourth time it happened Athos took Amorette's arm and linked it with his own. "Will you at least attempt to observe your surroundings Cometess!"

"Athos I'm tired, cold and my mind is working in overdrive! I can't concentrate on pickpockets and look for Shauna all at the same time in the darkness." Amorette stopped where they stood at the cross roads of a set of alleyways.

Athos sighed, his brusque mood leaving as he turned to look at her. "Let's come back tomorrow and search. After the day you've had Amorette this is the last place for you to be late at night. I'll come back here with you in the morning and we shall search again. Surely you can get word to Henry Fitzgerald to postpone his leaving if he is still here?"

Amorette admitted defeat as Athos stepped in front of her. With her eyes on her feet she let out a heavy sigh. Gently he curled a finger beneath her chin and lifted it so that she was gazing into his eyes again. Whatever Athos had been about to say appeared to have died within his throat. For a moment he gazed at her and Amorette felt sure that he would try to kiss her again. Not wanting to have to push him away in public or to offend him Amorette spoke before he could move any closer to her. "Athos I cannot do this!" When he made no reply Amorette tried to search for the words to accurately explain her own feelings. "If I were to let you kiss me would you do so honestly? Or would you still envision my sister whilst doing so? The truth is Athos that even if you did not picture my sister whilst kissing me the thought would still be in my head. I cannot put myself through that. Frankly I've suffered enough pain and anguish at the hands of my family without adding to it. For once in my life I want to be certain about something and I am. I won't jeopardise it!"

Before Athos could speak, a shadow loomed from the darkness of the alleyway nearest them. "Have you two got a death wish skulking around here in the dead of night?"

They both jumped at the voice and turned, Athos' hand making a grab for his pistol. "Shauna?" Amorette questioned as she squinted to see through the darkness. The Irish woman nodded as she moved closer. Amorette didn't give her a chance to speak again. Instead she took the woman's hand in her own. "Did you mean what you said about wanting to return home?"

"Well yes but I hadn't given it much thought-"

Amorette interrupted her, "Then come with me!" She dragged Shauna back through the alleyway with Athos just behind them. When they finally reached the Quay Amorette breathed a great sigh of relief. she could just glimpse Henry Fitzgerald's ship a little way away but still visible above all the other ships moored on the river due to the Scottish flag flying from its mast. Amorette dragged Shauna on, ignoring her questions until they stood before the ship. She called for Henry and saw him turn towards the sound. He was stood on deck barking orders to a bustling crew. It made sense to Amorette suddenly that he should cast off at night and not draw so much attention to himself.

For a moment Amorette thought Henry looked as if he was going to ignore her altogether and refuse to speak with her, but at length he seemed to decide the opposite. He crossed the gangplank and threw a questioning glance at Amorette when he caught sight of Athos close by. Yet again Amorette took her chance before anyone had spoken. "Henry this is Shauna. I want you to take her home to Ireland!"

"What?" Henry spluttered incredulously.

"Shauna wants to return home. You are travelling to Scotland and have the means to deposit her on your way. You may drop her at which ports?"

Amorette gave a small tug on Shauna's hand. "Well there's, Waterford, Wexford or Wicklow or anywhere along the south east coast really. I can make my own may home from there well enough," confirmed Shauna.

"You will do this for me Henry because I am your friend," announced Amorette.

Henry let out a snort of laughter. "Oh will I now Amorette? And what would induce me to do so?"

"Those letters that I told you I Burnt; perhaps I kept a few of them." Amorette didn't like threatening her friend but she thought that she could see in Henry's eyes that she didn't really mean it. "I've kept rather a lot of your secrets old friend! Those letters would fetch a mighty fine price to the highest bidder and so would your head!"

"Why did you lie?" Henry asked. "Why didn't you burn them all?"

Amorette sighed, the truth seeping into the lie that she had concocted. "Henry you do not know what it is like to be a woman in this world. The Queen had her own insurance policies and I have mine should I ever need them."

Henry shook his head in disbelief. "I can't say that I am pleased though that you have used my life as your insurance. That's more than once you've done that now lass!" He turned is eyes on Shauna who was staring back at him apprehensively. "I'll take your friend home; as long as she's no trouble mind!"

Amorette smiled gratefully at him. She pulled Shauna aside whilst Henry watched curiously. "Shauna I know Henry looks like an arrogant brute and to all intents and purposes that's what he is I suppose, but he will not harm you. He is one of my oldest friends and I know very well that there is a kind hearted man hiding there just beneath the surface. You can trust him!"

Shauna nodded. "I dare say I can trust him more than many of the men that walk the streets of Paris anyway."

Amorette chuckled. "You may be right about that. Another thing, the money I gave you should help you reach home once you have docked in Ireland, but don't tell Henry about it. He would never take it from you but I cannot vouch for his crew. They may overhear a conversation between you and Henry so I think it's best to keep it quiet."

Shauna nodded. "I don't know how to thank you for all of this Madam! You've shown more kindness to me in two days than I've seen in my whole time in Paris."

"Well that doesn't say much for the Parisian's does it?" Amorette took the girl's hand in her own again. "As for thanking me, all the thanks I wish to receive is a letter telling me that you have arrived home safe and well. That will be enough for me. You may write to me at the Louvre or to the Duke of Buckingham's residence. The letter will find its way to me." Their private conversation over, Amorette and Shauna returned to where Henry stood. He was throwing uncertain glances towards Athos who stood a little way away. "I mean it Henry, if she doesn't return home safe and sound I will know of it; and I shall blame you."

"Lass I know better than to get on your bad side, what with all of those powerful friends of yours!" Henry threw her a wink but Amorette wasn't sure that he was in jest. Turning to Shauna, he produced a small silver key. "Here, take this lass. You can have the use of my cabin throughout your journey, but don't mention it to the crew that you have this key. Keep it to yourself. If there are any issues come straight to me, I'm not hard to find."

Amorette stepped back, sudden relief washing over her at the realisation that her quickly concocted plan was actually in motion and seemed to be working. "I appreciate this Henry!" She called to him as he turned towards the ship with Shauna.

"What can I say?" he called back from the gangplank, "I'm a sucker for a pretty face mademoiselle!"

It was at that second that Amorette noticed that both Henry and Shauna bore the same shock of red hair upon their heads. It made her chuckle a little to imagine Henry trying to contend with Shauna. Amorette had an inkling that the woman was more wild than she had given her credit for.

Athos approached her side slowly. "I want to wait until they have cast off." He nodded and together they stood in silence, watching the crew ready themselves for their night-time journey. It seemed Amorette had got Shauna to the docks just on time, for in little over half an hour Henry approached the helm. They pulled up the anchor and cut the mooring ropes and were off. In little more than a few minutes the ship vanished into the darkness.

Amorette and Athos turned to walk back the way they had come in silence, Athos only speaking once they had reached Les Halles, telling Amorette to stay close to him. He gently slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. The gesture could never be unwanted, but it certainly made Amorette feel awkward.

They walked on in continued silence until they reached the gates of the Louvre. Stopping just inside the gates Athos suddenly moved so close to Amorette that they were only separated by the breadth of the front of his hat. "Are you really going to marry him?" he growled.

Amorette stepped back, shaking her head in annoyance. This conversation was not one that she wanted to have at all. "Yes, I am and what's more I want to marry him! You know, when they speak of Fabien and I in the future they may not say that we had this great love that surpassed all but they will say that we loved and cared for one another. I do have feelings for the man and I do not see why I should forgo those feelings because you are undecided as to whether you want me or not! Let me decide for you Athos! I already know you could not care for me as I wish you to as you would only be reminded of my sister! That's not enough for me anymore! I cannot live in her shadow any longer!"

"Do you not think I wish with all my heart that things had been different?" cried Athos. "I lie awake at night and wish that it had been you that I had loved all those years ago and not Ann!"

"Would you have ever come to think of me that way? If I had never introduced you to my sister would you have done what everyone said you would do one day and marry me? Everyone thought that we were well suited apart from you!" Amorette felt the anger that had come upon her so quickly begin to evaporate. She had no want of this conversation at all. Getting angry only prolonged it. "You had your chance with me Athos. I would have married you in a heartbeat but you never once thought to look at me that way! I still don't think that you look at me that way. I don't know why on earth you'd want to be reminded of Ann but clearly you do. I won't be your remembrance. We are not the same people, but you would have us be so. I cannot do that!"

Amorette turned away from Athos' shocked face and walked away, hot and angry tears rolling down her cheeks. She walked briskly, but he didn't follow and she was glad for it.

 _ **I think Athos is going to have to work far harder to win over Amorette! The next few chapters will give some of you a bit of hope, even though it's rather sad! There were actually two poems that influenced this chapter. The other is 'Reprise' by Ogden Nash, go and check it out! It's one of my favourite poems but I thought it was overload having three in this chapter. The poem by W. B Yeats was more fitting for this story I think as it's concerning Athos' feelings. The poem within the chapter was written by me a year or two ago. I'm not sure if it's any good at all but I felt that it fitted well. I'm interested to know what you all think of Fabien? Is he good? Bad? What do you think will happen next with Fabien and Amorette? Let me know!**_


	31. Chapter 31

_**Babs; Buckingham and Amorette's father are only a few chapters away! For now I'm killing everyone's hopes again with this chapter.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

"I heard tell that you were looking for me Cometess?"

Amorette looked up from her book into the Face of Jerome Weston. She had in fact been searching for the English ambassador that very morning but had given up when she could not find him anywhere within the palace. Amorette had not seen Athos in weeks, and had no intention of stepping outside the palace walls to make it more likely for them to cross each other's paths. "Yes mon seigneur ambassadeur, I was indeed seeking you out to discuss something."

Weston sat beside Amorette on the stone bench that she occupied. "What business is it that you need to discuss? Your house in England?"

"No, I only wish it was something as simple as that." Amorette let out a heavy sigh. "Actually what I wanted to discuss with you is something of a more personal nature. I've always thought you gave good, sound advice and if I'm honest, I think I need the counsel of a wise man."

"Is this something to do with your upcoming wedding?" Weston asked, a quizzical eyebrow raised.

"Yes it is in a way," Amorette closed her book with a snap and stood up. "But I do not think we should speak of it here in the open."

Weston stood too and offered his arm. "Let's walk then. I do not think the lower gardens are as crowded this afternoon. If we walk for a while we may come upon a secluded spot."

Amorette took his arm and let Weston lead her down the lawn where ladies and men alike were taking advantage of the autumn sunshine. "I wonder Monsieur if you are aware that my father is to attend my wedding?"

"Cometess I was under the impression that you had invited your father." Weston was looking at her curiously, and Amorette knew it was either a very good thing, or a very bad thing to be talking of such a thing with a man who was on friendly terms with her father.

"I did not invite my father, and will not appreciate his presence. He has invited himself, and refusing to have him present during the service is as far as my authority will stretch. I cannot banish him from Paris and would not wish to have to do so in case it should cause disruption to my wedding."

Weston still looked confused. "Then what advice is it that you seek Madam?"

Amorette cleared her throat sharply. "There is the small matter Monsieur of who will give me away. My father will be affronted to be replaced by someone else. I must choose someone who will be able to ward off my father's jibes and who has acceptable dispensation to be such a large part of my wedding."

"And you do not know who to appoint to such a position?" Weston asked.

Amorette nodded. "I want that person to be someone that Fabien and I both have a connection to. We have a mutual friend in the Duke of Buckingham but I do not know if that is appropriate."

Weston chuckled. "I think that's a rather good idea actually. Buckingham is a very good friend to you so why should that not be appropriate. The man who gives your hand in marriage does not have to be a family member. Pick a close friend who you want to be with you on your special day Madam, and if anyone has anything negative to say about it simply send them Buckingham's way!" Amorette laughed. "It does seem a fitting tribute to the man who threw you together!"

"What?" Amorette stopped walking to turn towards Weston.

He smiled wryly. "I didn't think I'd be the one to tell you this, I thought you would already know. Buckingham and your Fiancé have been acquainted for a fair few years. Buckingham told me himself that he sent Fabien here to meet with you."

Amorette's jaw dropped. Suspicion marred her thoughts. "Do you mean to say that Buckingham told him to propose to me?"

"Oh God no!" Weston cried with his hands held up slightly in surrender. "I do not mean that at all. Buckingham told Fabien that he should meet you, that you have a lot in common. You have a love for books and his writings in particular and I believe your old friend thought a little flirtation would do you some good after the whole debacle with a certain musketeer."

Amorette gasped. "Buckingham told you about Athos?"

"He did inform me of some of the finer details, yes. I Believe I knew well before that though. What can I say Madam, I'm an observant man. Honestly though, do not be upset with Buckingham. He knew too young people very well and thought they should meet. He thought if nothing else you might remain friends with Fabien. He only wanted to bring you a little happiness. He had no idea that you and Fabien would continue courting and decide to marry. He is a little smug that he was the one to push you two together though. He's becoming insufferable."

"Yes I can imagine that he is!" Amorette agreed. "Come to think of it, why didn't I see that for myself. I was foolish not to make the connection."

"Your mind was elsewhere Madam, and there's nothing wrong with that." Weston carried on walking and a few seconds later Amorette moved to catch up with him. "You should never feel guilty for your own happiness. How will you deal with your father once he arrives?

Amorette shrugged her shoulders. "If I am honest monsieur, I do not know. There is a soiree the evening before our wedding for all of our guests and I know he means to attend that. It is being held at the Louvre so I have no place to tell him that he is not welcome there. I do not know how I will handle such a situation. I am worried though. I know he will approach Fabien, and more than likely myself also. I do not want my father whispering his poison into the ears of people I care about but I do not know how to prevent him doing so."

Weston nodded to show his understanding. "Those who know and care about you will not let themselves be influenced by whatever it is that your father has to say. I'm sure you will have already considered it, but I would advise you to ensure that you have someone with you if your father does approach you. I know your father well enough to be aware of his sharp tongue. Apart from that I think all that you can do is keep your distance and try to enjoy your evening, as I said do not feel guilty for your own happiness. Do not let your father spoil what will be a special time for you!"

Amorette smiled at him. "Monsieur I do believe that your daughters are very lucky to have a father like you. I think my life might have been very different if I had a father such as yourself."

When Amorette glimpsed a young Englishman called Stafford; her father's steward marching across the courtyard one morning, she felt a sense of foreboding drape her shoulders. Whatever it was that her father would have to throw at her, she knew she would not be ready for it. He would want to upset her in any way he could, and he would also want to try and distinguish how to get under Fabien's skin.

She felt Fabien's hands gently land on her shoulders as he pulled her back against him. He held her close for a few minutes and they both watched from the corridor window as Stafford organised her father's baggage. "He does not bring much luggage. Amorette my guess is he will be gone in a day or two. Once we are happily married there will be nothing he can do to spoil our happiness."

"I am certain that he will try though." Amorette turned away from the window with a sigh. "I know I've said all this before, but I just want you to be prepared Fabien. My father will approach you and say all sorts of things. He will insult me and you, and he will try to barter a deal with you to ensure that once we are married you will give him my money."

Fabien was visibly irritated. "And I've said all of this before to you! I won't have your father speak of such things with me. If he exchanges pleasantries I will humour him but the moment he begins to insult you in any way I will walk away. I have no need to hear anything that he has to say so if he oversteps the mark I will make my disregard known. If I'm honest I'd like to be locked in a room alone with him so I could get my own sentiments about the man across. I know that you do not wish us to fight though, so I will refrain as much as possible from hitting the man. Amorette you do not have to see or speak with him if you do not want to, you know that don't you? You have more than enough friends here who would be only too happy to keep you both apart."

The prospect of speaking with her father was not something that Amorette was looking forward to, but she was certain she would have to face him in one way or another before her wedding. "I may have to speak with him though. Many of my cousins and other family members will be arriving soon. I won't snub him in public company because that is what he wants. It would make me look like a petulant child. I'll suffer his poison so that everyone else may be spared it. I would like you to avoid him at all costs Fabien. Of course, if you do wish to speak with him that is entirely your choice but I would rather that you didn't have to. I already know that Buckingham is chomping at the bit to hear my father insulting me so that he can resort to violence but that is because he knows my father. He knows what to expect from a man like him. I don't want you to have to experience it if you can avoid it."

"What does Athos say about your father's stay in Paris?" Fabien asked. The question made Amorette's stomach clench. She knew it was an innocent question, but something within her didn't like Fabien talking of Athos; or Athos talking of Fabien for that matter. They were separate entities of her life that could never coincide.

"I haven't spoken to Athos in almost two months." She murmured.

Fabien frowned. "I thought you two had resolved all of your issues? I was under the impression you liked his company. He is an old friend of yours, and he is far more grounded than Buckingham. Of the two I think I prefer your friendship with Athos. Buckingham is still a little too wild."

"I've not really needed to speak to Athos." Amorette turned back towards the windows. "I know you wanted to see a slightly less curious side of me and I must say I'm enjoying the calmness of it all. Actually Athos and I argued the last time we spoke."

"Really?" asked Fabien.

"I haven't really wanted to speak with him since then," Amorette lied. She would never not want to speak to Athos, regardless of their situations. No matter where life took her, she would always hold her old friend in high esteem. If she was honest with herself, that argument had really been something that she had thrown at the musketeer to try and influence his staying away from her and it seemed to have worked. "There's something that I've been meaning to ask you but I haven't really known how to address it," Amorette announced to change the subject.

"Oh really?" Fabien asked curiously. "And what might that be?"

Amorette wasn't sure that she wanted to hear Fabien's explanation but it was a conversation that needed to happen before they were married and the time until such an occurrence was very rapidly running out. "I didn't know how well you and the Duke of Buckingham were acquainted. I wasn't aware until Jerome Weston informed me; that Buckingham had you come to Paris with the sole purpose of meeting me."

Fabien let out a sigh and smiled awkwardly. "I knew this conversation would come up eventually. The truth is that I was already coming to Paris to meet with friends of mine and to present some of my works to an agent who is having them printed for me. The last time that Buckingham and I spoke before I came to Paris he mentioned a friend of his that loved my work. I got his hint very quickly and he explained that we may have a lot in common. Naturally I was curious to meet you, but I had not planned on making any designs upon you until such a time as I got to know you. If I'm honest there was a fear that Buckingham was playing one of his cruel pranks and that you'd be nothing like he said. I resolved to meet you and decide from there what course of action to take. Then of course I met you and was extremely pleasantly surprised. Our mutual friend was right that we should meet, but please don't think that our whole relationship was orchestrated by him. That's why I never brought it up, because I didn't want to worry you! Buckingham does care for you a great deal though so I don't know why you'd even consider that he'd want to dupe you into a relationship or a marriage with someone of his choosing."

"I guess knew deep down that was the case," said Amorette. "But I did have niggling doubts on the surface. When you have a father like mine, you tend to question everyone's motives. I was worried about asking you in case you took offence."

Fabien turned her back towards him. "I know why you needed to ask me about it Amorette. I'm glad that you were able to judge my motives for yourself."

"My father will use this," Amorette confirmed, "Like he uses everything. The most important thing to him in life is leverage over people. If he does speak of your friendship with Buckingham to you, know what he means by it and do not let him provoke you. Heaven knows I'll be provoked enough as it is."

Nerves threatened to swallow Amorette whole. For a very long time she had thought that this day would never come for her; the day before her wedding. For the first time, all of her friends and family would come together with Fabien's friends and family for a celebration. In reality none of that really mattered. All that did matter was that she and Fabien were happy, but Amorette couldn't help worrying. The planning for the soiree had been taken out of her hands by her friends so there was some uncertainty about what to expect. By late afternoon though her fears had been dispelled. Claude showed her the flower arrangements and decoration of the hall they had chosen to hold the soiree in and everything was perfect. Amorette had not wanted a gaudy, outrageous affair. If she was honest, she hadn't wanted the soiree to go ahead at all but Claude had told her it was somewhat of a tradition for a member of Paris court.

Dressed in midnight blue silk with a gold brocade and with her hair in a simple braid Amorette entered the room on Buckingham's arm. Immediately her eyes searched the room for one man in particular but she didn't catch sight of him. "Is he here, do you see him?" she hurriedly whispered to Buckingham.

"I don't think he is here yet," her friend replied with a squeeze of her hand. "But I have a man on every door, so when he does arrive you will be the first to know."

Amorette hadn't wanted all of the pomp and ceremony of the usual court celebrations, so she had requested that no arrival announcements be made and there would be no speeches or formal addresses. In truth Amorette concluded that it was indeed a good idea to have such a gathering, with both families together before the wedding ceremony. Amorette greeted cousins that she had not seen a long time and cooed over the new baby in the family. After the dancing started Amorette barely had a second to think of her father. For the next few hours she danced with friends and family alike, only stopping to take a sip of wine every so often. At length dancers began to disperse a little throughout the evening as they grew tired and Amorette searched the crowd for Fabien as her dance with Jerome Weston ended. He was standing by the fireplace, chatting merrily with a group of his friends. When he caught Amorette's eye he grinned. She held his gaze as she tried to catch her breath. She fanned herself to cool down after all of the dancing and highly suspected her face was flushed bright red in colour. Despite her worries, she couldn't help the happy grin upon her face and shared a chuckle with Fabien from across the room.

Sensing Buckingham's presence behind her Amorette broke eye contact with Fabien to turn and look at her friend. He did not need to speak to tell her his news. His grim expression told her that her father was undoubtedly in the room somewhere. Buckingham nodded towards a corner of the room where Lord Percy Barclay was approaching some of her cousins. "Let's hope he stays there," Amorette muttered.

"What would you have me do?" Buckingham questioned. "Shall I have words with him?"

Amorette shook her head slowly. "No, leave him be for now. If he occupies himself with my cousins for the evening, then I have nothing to complain about. I have no say in him speaking with those who are also family to him. I don't doubt that Uncle Herbert will be glad to see him. It is when he tries to converse with the French side of the family that I see problems arising, but even then we can do nothing. As long as he does not approach my immediate friends or Fabien and I, I'll let him be."

Buckingham looked as if he wanted to argue his point, but seemed to think better of it and nodded. "I'll stay close by you in case he wishes to speak with you. I've a fair few things I can threaten him with if need be."

Amorette couldn't help the snort that escaped her. "I don't think you'll listen to me if I ask you not to do that, will you?"

"Mademoiselle, my hatred for your father stretches far beyond my friendship with you!" Buckingham tapped his chest, "I've a few letters hidden upon my person that he probably didn't want to come to light regarding various schemes of his. I don't even have to bring you into the conversation."

Buckingham stepped back slightly and Amorette followed when she realised that the dance had started again without her. She tried her best to smile and forget the Englishman in the corner of the room but her sweaty palms and racing heart wouldn't let her. Her father was here for a reason, and Amorette was extremely grateful he would not be attending her wedding the next day. Amorette trusted Fabien not to be influenced by anything that her father said, but the fact that her father would try was enough. Amorette had spent her whole life feeling embarrassed by how greedy and power-hungry her father was and tonight would be no exception. She found herself zoning out of the conversation as she watched her father converse with his English relatives and felt the eyes of others upon her at times but she never turned to meet their gaze. Amorette was sure that her father was here to ruin things for her in any way that he could, and with the late hour it couldn't be much longer before he made his move. She sucked in a breath when her father suddenly turned towards her with an unreadable expression and then swiftly moved off towards the other side of the room.

Why on earth was she waiting for something to happen? Why not take the upper hand before her father began to pull apart her wedding from the seams? On a whim Amorette set off at an almost run after her father. Fresh air flooded Amorette's lungs as she approached the balcony doors and watched her father standing alone through the pain of glass. The warmth of the room seemed a distant memory as the cold air gently ghosted over Amorette's skin. She did not think that was the only reason for the goose bumps along her arms. Turning back towards the room Amorette searched the sea of faces for a trusted one. She didn't have to look far, because Aramis was standing by another set of doors to the balcony only a few feet away. They shared a sharp look with one another for a second before he nodded swiftly and gestured for her to lead the way.

Lord Barclay turned towards his daughter with a knowing smile on his face as the door creaked in movement. Feeling Aramis' presence right behind her Amorette took tentative steps towards the man she had hated all of her life.

"My dear girl," her father simpered. "I am glad to be here to congratulate you and offer you my best wishes for your happiness. What a wondrous display your friends have organised for you."

Amorette knew it was all lies but she also wanted her wedding to be untainted by sour arguments and ill sentiment. She offered her thanks simply as she stopped before him. "I do wonder at you coming so far for a celebration that you have not been formally invited to though Monsieur."

Lord Barclay shook his head. "You will not address me as father then?" Amorette rolled her eyes. Her father had begun his game even sooner than she had anticipated. "You cannot blame me for wishing to set my eyes upon the man you have chosen to marry. I must confess for a while I did not think the day would come when you would wilfully marry, but here we are."

Her father moved backwards until he was sitting on a chaise longue that had been draped with a pale blue velvet which seemed to be the colour Claude had chosen for most of the decorations. "I believe that was because for a long time there have not been any amiable prospects that were out of your reach." Amorette moved closer to the chaise and hesitantly sat on the very end of it, wanting to give off an air of unaffectedness at the same time as not wanting to get to close to her father.

Her father smiled wryly. "Yes, I suppose your soon to be husband is not someone that I would have considered a prospect for you. I did not think he would have been to your taste. I know how well you have collected some of the richest men in England and France as your particular friends so I suspected you would pick someone of a much higher calibre for your match. Even you are not averse to the productivity of a marriage of convenience. I thought you would have chosen more sensibly than a penniless writer. I believe he is a good match for you in temperament though. Many friends who marry do come to love each other in their own way throughout the years."

"Fabien is not penniless!" Amorette growled. "If you must know his works are increasing in popularity daily and he has already consented to a major contract with the theatres here in Paris. If he were penniless though, it would not matter. I have money enough for both of us. It is not a friendly agreement but a love match. Fabien and I care greatly for one another."

Lord Barclay nodded. "I'm happy for you then, but I am surprised. I know how your romantic taste is more for the silent and surly military man so I wonder at you choosing a man so ready and free with feeling and words." Amorette knew he had made mention of Athos to try and provoke a reaction from her so she let the comment fly over her head.

"Why are you here Monsieur?" she asked with finality.

Her father nodded in Aramis' direction. "Perhaps we could speak privately?"

"Out of the question," Aramis stated mildly. Amorette turned to see him smile in a good natured manner to her father but beneath it she could sense the warning hidden there.

Before her father had a chance to explain himself, Amorette jumped in. "I don't really need you to answer that question if I'm honest. I know you are here to try and convince me not to marry Fabien. As I said earlier, he is beyond your influence and you do not like that. You would have me marry a man that would control me in everything that I say and do so that you could pocket my fortune. I do wonder at your thinking that anything you have to say to me would have any affect upon me. I have been responsible for myself since I was fifteen years old, and that's not about to change any time soon!"

"This is about far more than marriage Amorette!" her father leaned towards her a little. "This is about who you are, and the family name! You would give that to some jumped up story teller who has no idea how to run a household or covet a century's old family name that has an enormous legacy and reputation!"

"I don't give a damn about family name!" Amorette shouted as she began to lose her composure. "My family name was tarnished forever; the day my mother decided to marry you! I've never taken your name and never will! It's my mother's name that I will carry with me, and that of my husbands!"

Her father shook his head exasperatedly. "There is more. I know the games you have involved yourself in! I know who you chose as friends! If you wish to carry on that way in support of this Spanish Queen you respect so much you need a husband that can protect you!"

Amorette couldn't help laughing incredulously. "Why do you give a damn about all of this! You'd rather see me dead than living unless I can be of some help to you! I know about Spain! I know it was you who told the Spanish that I was the French spy! That's how important your daughter is to you! You basically sent those men to assassinate me all for a bundle of letters! Do you know, I'd feel safer in your presence if you pulled a pistol out and pointed it at me rather than playing these games! When I marry Fabien tomorrow you will have no claim to me whatsoever. When I marry my duty and loyalty shall be to my husband! Gladly I can report to you that the man I am to marry hates you even more than I do!"

Amorette had gained nothing from her conversation with her father, and doubted she ever would when there was someone else present. Clearly there was something that he would speak with her about if they were left alone but Amorette had weighed up her options. There was no secret worth being alone with her father for. In truth, she didn't want to know because he was not a part of her life any more. She stood to walk away but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back down onto the chaise longue. Amorette felt Aramis move swiftly so that he was right behind her.

"I broke your arm once little chit; I can do it again just as easily!" growled Lord Barclay.

Amorette wasn't sure if Aramis heard or not, but the musketeer's own hand wrapped itself firmly around her own arm and pulled her up off the couch and away from her father. "I think this conversation is over," muttered Aramis as he pushed her in the direction of the doorway. The warm air washed over her shoulders as she re-entered the room and looked around her. The music had stopped and the almost deafening din of conversation hit her as she moved away from the doors. Turning to look about her a pair of cold blue eyes were staring at her from only a few feet away. She turned towards Athos with a curious gaze. Amorette was sure that he was trying to ascertain if she was upset or not, but she couldn't read his own expression. She lost herself in his eyes for a moment, wondering just what it was that he wanted to say to her. He looked as if he wanted to approach her but was unsure about doing so.

Amorette was almost moving towards him when Aramis' gentle hand on her shoulder brought her back to her senses. "I'll see that your father is removed momentarily from these rooms, but I'm afraid he will still be somewhere within the Louvre."

Amorette turned towards the marksman and felt Athos move towards them. "No, It's fine honestly. I'd rather not cause a scene if I'm honest. That's what my father wants, to take attention away from the happy celebrations. Besides, its late. We'll all be retiring soon."

"He won't come near you for the rest of the evening," said Athos over her shoulder. "We'll make sure of it."

"Thank you," Amorette said gently to them both. She didn't turn towards Athos but instead shared a look with Aramis that thanked him and apologised in one glance. Something in his warm brown eyes told her that he understood and she forced herself to turn and walk away from Athos without even sparing him a glance.

She had been married for two whole weeks. Amorette still couldn't believe that she was someone's wife. She lay on her side in bed in what had once been Fabien's rooms, but was now theirs to share. The warm glow of fire and the thick fur that had been thrown over the bed clothing had her snuggling further down in the comfortable bed. Amorette didn't really think she had known what to expect from marriage and supposed that two weeks was not ample time to measure accurately the changes that would occur in her life but she did not expect to be so content so quickly. She heard the outer door close and almost saw in her mind's eye Fabien unbuttoning his doublet as he walked through the dining room and parlour towards the bed chamber. She stayed on her side, facing away from the door as it gently opened and her husband entered the room. She heard the doublet land on a chair and the slap of his boots hitting the floor. His breeches and shirt soundlessly landed somewhere too, and then he crawled underneath the bedspread behind her and pulled her against him.

Amorette turned towards Fabien with a warm smile and he kissed her in greeting. I didn't think you'd still be awake," he said.

"How did your meeting go?" Amorette asked as she turned back around to face the fire.

"Well, everything is running smoothly. I can't believe how quickly everything is happening," Fabien muttered as his stubbly chin gently rubbed against Amorette's shoulder. "I've not completed the script yet but the actors have the first few acts entirely sussed. It felt strange to hear them speak aloud the words I wrote and to know that in just a few weeks the people of Paris will be hearing them in the theatres."

"You had better get used to it!" Amorette cried with a small laugh. "I think it will seem more real once you have completed those last few scenes and given them over to the theatre master."

Fabien made a sound to the affirmative as he pulled Amorette closer to him and she felt his soft breaths on the back of her neck. Amorette closed her eyes contently and waited for sleep to consume her, but Fabien broke the silence. "Let's go away together for a while?"

Amorette chuckled sleepily. "That's a nice thought, but go to sleep won't you?"

"I'm serious Amorette," Fabien said. He suddenly sounded more awake and alive. "We've not even talked of a honeymoon yet. Let's take ourselves out of Paris and into the countryside? We could even go to Italy?"

Amorette sighed heavily. "Will you stop putting such ideas in my head. Perhaps we can go in a few months' time but you are forgetting that you have a script to complete and a play opening in the theatres in a little over two weeks. We cannot go anywhere in such little time if we are to be back to see your work on stage."

"I don't give a damn about that script. If I'm completely honest with you I'm doubting the ending. I have had it planned since before I met you but strangely, it doesn't sit well with me to end it in such a way now. It doesn't feel real. I want to retract the script and scurry off somewhere. I can re-write the last act whilst we are away." Fabien turned Amorette around so that she was facing him and gently ran a finger across her chin. "Let's just sneak away tomorrow morning? We won't tell anyone we are going and have a carriage called to whisk us away before the palace wakes. I've been selfish to keep us both here whilst we should have been off enjoying and celebrating. We can go into the country and plan our travels from there?"

Amorette looked into her husband's eyes, alive and sparkling with a hint of adventure. "Alright then," she replied bemusedly. She laughed then and kissed him. "I think that would be wonderful."

In the early morning light Amorette gazed at her naked form in the mirror. Skin as pale as marble was just visible due to the shaft of light streaming in through a gap in the drapes. Amorette had never really given much thought to the shape of her body before, as for a long time she had thought she would be the only one to see it without clothing. She ran her hands over her hips and smiled as Fabien came up behind her and laid his hands flat against her stomach. Amorette felt it a comfortable action which was another surprise to her.

Many years ago Amorette's mother had sat her down and explained what happened after the ceremonial marriage had taken place and of the relations between a husband and wife within the confines of their private chambers. Remarkably, what Amorette had experienced was wholly different to what her mother had described to her. Her mother had told her that intercourse could be painful and even traumatic between a husband and wife. Marriage was a duty in every sense of the word and her mother had sought to warn and prepare her for the worst. Amorette had understood that at thirteen years old but had not considered it seriously. At that stage she was still deluded and thought one day she and Athos would be married. She knew that marriage to Athos was a sacred matter and that he would never choose to hurt the woman that he loved.

Amorette's mother had also told her that husbands would lose interest rather quickly once a few children had been born and their wife's body had begun to change. Her mother had spoken of that with fondness, saying that when a husband lost interest it was a new aspect of the marriage. Amorette had known what her mother had meant even then. Her mother was telling her to have children early so that her husband would lose interest in intercourse. Her mother thought it a laborious and painful act that every woman should want to forgo. Amorette never harboured any ill will towards her mother, but she did think that the woman could have handled such a situation better. She had let her disdain and scorn for what had been her husband's treatment for her impact upon the advice that she was giving to her daughter.

Amorette had begun to worry slightly before her marriage about what awaited her, but Claude and Constance had been there at either side to offer support and advice. They had both banished Amorette's worries. Granted, Claude had explained that her husband had lost interest, but so had she. Her husband had never been cruel or forceful with her though. Constance was far more restrained with what information she gave away about her marital relations but the small smile upon her face was enough for Amorette.

Standing in Fabien's arms whilst he kissed her neck, Amorette realised that she was very lucky to have found such a man. He was always gentle, kind and loving. He had known Amorette's fears without her having to speak them aloud and had been patient with her. In only two weeks though, Amorette felt like a different person. There was so much more to marriage and love that she had discovered in that short time.

"We should get ourselves ready and send for a carriage as soon as we can," Fabien muttered against her neck. Amorette grinned as her husband made no move to dress. She knew by the way his eyes met hers in the mirror what was about to happen next as one gentle hand moved upwards to caress her breast and the other hand slid lower.

Only Fabien's valet was aware of their imminent flight as the married couple briskly walked down the courtyard steps towards a carriage waiting at the gates. The valet waited for them there, the luggage loaded and strapped to the roof of the carriage. Fabien grabbed Amorette's hand and she let out a rather loud peal of laughter as he dragged her across the courtyard. Turning her head to the right a little, Amorette noticed that her laughter had caught the attention of two musketeers as they made their way to their stations for the day. Amorette grinned mischievously at Porthos and D'artagnan as they both waved to her. She let out another laugh as Fabien lifted her into the carriage and jumped in after her. "Léo," she called out of the carriage window to Fabien's valet. "You'll be sure to tell Tilda about our leaving and apologise for me not telling her myself? She knows where to find the money I have left her." Léo nodded as he smiled happily and touched the brim of his hat to them as the carriage jolted into motion. Amorette fell back into the seat beside Fabien and let her head rest on his shoulder as they laughed at their secret escape. She missed the gaze of the cobalt blue eyes following the movement of the carriage and didn't see Athos passing through the gate in the opposite direction as they left the Louvre.

 _ **So, what's going to happen now? Fabien and Amorette have left to begin their marriage properly! 'What about Athos?' I hear you cry. Don't worry, next chapter sorts it all out even if it is a bit sad!**_


	32. Chapter 32

_**Babs; consider it on the way to being fixed! ;)**_

 _ **Banshee-hime; Love the long review! Amorette has forgotten about Marie a little, and I don't blame her because she's had a bit of a tough ride herself! I've never even been to Paris; I live in rainy Belfast! I used a map called The Turgot which is from 1739; it's the closest one to that time period I could find! It's great though, very clear! As for Shauna, not even any of my characters picked that one up! There's more to come from her and she's Irish so she didn't grow up on the streets of Paris. She's not really what she might have seemed, and you might have been right about Fabien! ;)**_

 _ **So the first segment of this chapter is something that I wrote in 2009! I only realised a few weeks ago that it might fit this, and I didn't actually have to change a single word of it.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

 _The Reassurance by Thom Gunn_

About ten days or so

After we saw you dead

You came back in a dream.

I'm all right now you said.

And it was you, although

You were fleshed out again:

You hugged us all round then,

And gave your welcoming beam.

How like you to be kind,

Seeking to reassure.

And, yes, how like my mind

To make itself secure.

* * *

She rolled over in the bed and reached out to touch him, but her fingers grasped at thin air and she let her arm drop to the pillow with a thud. She loved that fraction of a second, when she would wake and reach out to touch him, thinking he was still there. Bliss. She closed her eyes again and prayed the fraction of a second would repeat itself. But it did not. She remembered.

She got out of bed and made her way through the empty rooms of the house. Her presence, haunting each of them alongside the ghosts that haunted her disturbed mind. At length, she reached her destination. She stopped at the door and watched her breath catch in the cold air in front of her. It made the candle held aloft in her hand flicker, casting monstrous shadows on the wooden panelled walls.

Upon opening the door, a gust of cold air hit her, blowing out the candle, leaving her in almost complete darkness. She moved towards her only source of light, the window. Suddenly she was bathed in the pale moonlight, which made her already pale complexion as white as snow. She stood there, looking out into the abyss for longer than she knew. Eventually she drew up the courage, and made her way around the room lighting candles as she went. She then approached the fireplace and stoked the now dying embers in the grate. She turned them over with a poker and eventually the fire re-kindled.

She slumped into a chaise longue and tried to make herself comfortable, feeling as if the eyes belonging to the people portrayed in the paintings around the room were following her. She twisted and turned in the chair but it was no use. Then it hit her. She knew where she could sit comfortably. She slid from the chaise longue and onto the floor in front of the fire.

The last time she had sat here, it hadn't been her own arm wrapped around her, keeping out the cold, but his. He had run his fingers through her hair and kissed her neck. She longed for those times, times when she had been completely at peace with the world. Sitting there, not a voice had been heard, because they both knew what the other was thinking at that precise moment in time.

He had been her love, her life, her world and now he had been taken from her. In the first few days of his absence, she had been unable to cry for him. But now, as she sat staring into the fire, the tears cascaded down her face, hitting the wooden floor, like paint on a canvas. Why had he been taken, why did it have to be him? Now, more than ever all she wanted was to be with him. In her head she imagined herself with him, walking in the long grass, holding hands, the sun beating down on them. She imagined lying on the grassy banks of the river, in the shade of an old oak tree, with him beside her. He was twirling her long hair around his fingers and he fed her grapes.

She was brought back to earth by a sharp slam. A gust of wind had blown the door closed. She jumped and turned back to the fire and watched the embers in the grate die along with her hope and happiness.

* * *

When the carriage trundling down the crooked road towards the house was first visible from an upstairs window, Amorette grabbed her shawl to wrap around her and ran through the house. She paid no heed to the calls of the household staff behind her and kept moving until she reached the lower floor and threw open the doors. The gravel crunched under her feet as she continued to run, only slowing her pace a little when the carriage door opened and Claude stepped out. Amorette threw herself into her friend's arms, trying her hardest not to sob her heart out on Claude's shoulder.

Claude didn't say anything for a long while and they just stood there, holding one another close. At length though Amorette did pull away to glance back towards the house. Her mother in law was stood at the window watching her every move. "Can we leave now Claude? I'd like to get on the road and away from here as soon as possible?"

"What?" cried her friend. "I thought I'd be staying tonight? It's a little late to leave now. It'll be dark very soon Amorette. Let's wait until morning."

Amorette shook her head, determined not to re-enter the house. "Please Claude? I cannot bare to spend another moment in that house with that woman! My things are ready and waiting by the door! We can take rooms in town until tomorrow."

Amorette watched as Claude's gaze flitted to the window where her mother in law stood and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. Sighing heavily, Claude turned back to Amorette; saw the desperation in her eyes and admitted defeat. She nodded gently and gestured for Amorette to climb into the carriage. The wooden contraption was a strange kind of solitude and relief for Amorette. In a little while she would finally be free of the memories of the house behind her. She sat in silence as Claude sent one of the coachmen for her things. She grimaced inwardly when she turned to see him returning with just one trunk.

Claude's face appeared before her. "I thought you said your things were ready?"

"They are," confirmed Amorette. "That's all I'm taking." She turned to look out of the carriage window away from her friend so as not to be questioned any further on the subject. Claude breathed a heavy sigh of what could have been tiredness, confusion or irritation and turned to walk and meet some of the maids who had come out to wave goodbye before at length she climbed into the carriage to take her seat beside Amorette.

Constance glanced up from her book as the gates opened and her husband and his friends cantered into the garrison on horseback. She hadn't expected them until later in the day but a free hour or two had driven her to sit on the steps and read in anticipation of their arrival. D'artagnan jumped down from his horse and greeted her with a swift kiss as he always did. "You look tired," he whispered as he touched her cheek gently.

"So would you be if you were the only trusted friend the Queen has left in Paris. In the month you've been gone I think today is the first that I've had a spare moment to myself!" Constance approached the table and placed her book on it as her husband's three friends removed their traveling cloaks and pistol braces. Looking around at their weary faces, she knew that she was not the only one that was exhausted.

"Come now Constance," D'artagnan sighed. "You cannot help that. Claude has just had a child; I'm sure you would not begrudge her the time spent with the new baby."

Constance shook her head, "It's not that I do…"

D'artagnan threw a wary look at his friends before turning back to his wife and moving closer to her. Whispering so that only she could hear, he said "And I thought you were happy for the Cometess du Guillory to be happily married and away from Paris for a while? When we married you were more than happy to stay in Paris and continue your work! You didn't want to leave."

Despite his best efforts, Porthos had overhead their conversation. "We can't all be Mesdames of leisure, sunning ourselves in the Italian sun and exploring the Venice canal ways day after day now can we," said the musketeer with a chuckle and a wink towards Constance.

"That's not funny!" she replied haughtily, loud enough for Aramis and Athos to hear from the other end of the table. When all four men looked at her blankly, she felt a knot grow inside her stomach. "Oh God, you don't know do you?"

"Know what?" asked Aramis curiously.

Constance had not thought that she would have been the one to tell them. She had thought she might perhaps have talked it through with them when they returned and offered advice but had not envisioned actually having to break the news. With sad eyes she turned to Athos. "I thought she might have written to you. I…F…Fabien des Rosiers is dead."

Athos shot up from where he had sat on the bench only seconds before. "What?" the confused and worried frown only deepened as Constance's mouth opened and closed, unsure of just what to say. "Amorette?" he asked worriedly.

Constance held up a hand. "She's fine, Athos. Well, as fine as she would be expected to be under the circumstances. What I mean is that she is well. It was a natural death Athos, that's all I know. Claude left two weeks ago to fetch Amorette home to Paris. They should be returning at the end of the week."

All four men sank down onto the bench in apparent shock and the expression was not new to Claude. When friends of both Fabien and Amorette had been availed of the news, confusion and disbelief had been rife. Surely the messengers were mistaken. A young man not thirty years of age and only four months married had been cut down in his prime mere weeks after the Christmas celebrations. The messengers had spoken the truth though. It was all confirmed when a hastily written note from Amorette had arrived begging for one of her friends to come and retrieve her from Fabien's home in Poitiers as quickly as possible. Constance could not have gone if she had wanted to, as the Queen would not have spared her. Claude had agreed to go instantly and Constance had thought it a little strange that she was so eager to leave behind a new born baby.

In the week leading up to Amorette's imminent return to Paris, Athos' mood was oddly calm and collected to the surprise of all of his friends. Constance was secretly glad of that. She knew he needed to maintain it, especially if he was to come into direct contact with Amorette when she returned. The last things her friend would need would be fussing and questions, even though the latter was something Amorette was sure to be accosted with.

When Constance glimpsed the carriage arriving in the courtyard of the Louvre and hurried down to meet it, she was not surprised to find the musketeers had beaten her there. She was glad though that their group of five were the only welcome party. Any more people and Constance was sure that Amorette would have been quite overwhelmed. Claude stepped down from the carriage first with a grim expression coating her face. Porthos and D'artagnan moved to take their luggage down from the roof of the carriage and Constance recognised two of the three trunks as belonging to Claude. "Where's the rest of it?" asked D'artagnan.

"That's all there is," called a small voice from just inside the carriage. A second later Amorette stepped out, looking as if she wanted to be anywhere else in that moment. Constance began to regret the fact that they had all come to greet her. Perhaps even this small welcoming party was too much too soon. Constance ducked her head to try and observe Amorette's face as she stepped down from the carriage but it was too well obscured by the wide brim of the large black hat that she wore. She caught Athos' gaze as he tried to do the same. Constance tried to smile at him but gave up as the desperation she saw in the cold blue eyes almost broke her heart. He didn't know what to say or do, and he was not alone in that matter for that was how they all felt. Amorette linked arms with Claude and began to walk towards the stone steps in silence.

Claude's coachman took her trunks from Porthos and D'artagnan was left carrying Amorette's rather small one. For a few seconds they all watched the bobbing up and down of the feather plumes of Amorette's hat as she and Claude led the way into the entrance hall before Amorette suddenly turned sharply. "For heaven's sake I do not need an armed guard to get to my rooms!" she cried. Gesturing towards her only trunk she said, "D'artagnan is help enough." With that, Amorette shook free of Claude's grip and walked on. Claude ran after her and made a grab for her arm. "Claude! For heaven's sake go and be with your new-born child that you abandoned to fetch me!" for a few seconds there was silence as everyone sucked in a breath. Claude didn't look outraged or upset though. She simply remained sorrowful. They all knew that Amorette hadn't meant what she had said but it was the first indication that all was not right with her. After a few seconds she turned and Constance could just observe beneath the hat that her eyes were closed in a look of pain. Amorette took Claude's hand and squeezed it tightly, "I'm sorry Claude. I didn't mean that. You will never know how much I appreciate you coming to fetch me home, but you should not have left your child for me. I know you wish to go to your daughter more than anything, so go! It's just that I can barely breathe with you all hovering over my shoulders."

With that Amorette moved off again with only D'artagnan in tow. Claude fell back to walk with the rest of them and immediately Athos' questioning gaze was upon her. Claude didn't give him the chance to bombard her with questions though. "Please don't ask me Athos, because I don't know. I'll wager I know as much as you and very little more. She has barely spoken on the journey back to Paris."

"Fabien, what happened?" Aramis asked.

Claude shook her head. "I'm sorry, I don't know that either. I did manage to catch a few words with the household staff before we left but they did not feel it was their place to speak of it; probably because of that ghastly mother in law!"

"Then what do we do?" Athos asked worriedly. It was a look that Constance had never before seen in the man's countenance in all the time that she had known him. It instilled a sense of fear within her, that if Athos, who had known Amorette for twenty years was unsure just how to handle the situation then there was little hope for the rest of them.

Claude didn't seem sure she had the answer to that question, but vowed to try none the less. "Constance and I will go and see her later, and we will tell you what comes to pass." Constance nodded her agreement. "For now though," continued Claude, "I think she's just desperate for some time alone."

D'artagnan walked in silence behind Amorette and she was glad for it. The chill even within the palace was remarkably apparent to her so she kept her thick fur cloak around her and kept her hat upon her head. When they eventually reached her own rooms she let D'artagnan follow her in. "Just place that here," Amorette gestured with a gloved hand towards the small table in the middle of the parlour.

D'artagnan did just that and then looked towards her with a small smile. "If you want Madam I can arrange for some food to be brought up to you, or I can find that maid of yours?"

Amorette shook her head quickly, and then smiled to soften the blow somewhat. "No. Thank you but I'd rather get some rest. Traveling in that carriage for three weeks has worn me out entirely. I'll call for food once I've rested."

D'artagnan nodded and made for the door. Amorette almost let out a sigh of relief before the young musketeer turned back towards her, his hand on the door handle. "You know where you might find us if you have need of anything Madam? I'm sure the same goes for Constance and Madam Morreaux."

Amorette tried to smile again warmly, but even she knew that it didn't reach her eyes. Speech suddenly seeming lost to her she simply nodded and turned away. Only when the door had closed behind him did Amorette let out a muffled sob from behind her hand. She ran to the door and turned the key, locking out the rest of the world. Finally, alone she approached the mirror over the fireplace and unpinned her hat from her head. As the hat tumbled to the floor Amorette sucked in a gasp. She had not seen herself in a mirror since she had left the house in Poitier with Claude over three weeks ago. Although she had known that she would appear tired and withdrawn what she saw was something entirely worse. She did not look like herself at all. Her skin was sallow and lifeless, pulled taught over sunken cheeks with dark circles below her eyes. Amorette vaguely thought that she looked like something that children would imagine of a wicked witch they heard about in stories. That made tears spring to her eyes. She had done this to herself. She began to desperately pluck at her cheeks to being about some redness but her skin snapped back into place, still the colour of undisturbed snow. Amorette looked down at the old dress she wore and pulled the fabric out and away from her body. She had never in her life been as thin as she was now. Oh how her sister would have remarked in some way about the state she looked in that moment.

That was the last straw for Amorette. The tears flowed freely and liberally as she cried for something she could never have back. She had experienced loss before in that of her mother's death and her sister's but now it all seemed so much more real. No longer able to bare looking at herself Amorette turned back towards the room and slowly made her way towards the door. She had a strange desire to be outside on the lawn; to let the heavy pelting rain chill her to the bone. Amorette stopped herself in the middle of the room. What would Fabien think of her just letting the cold take her like that? He would call her a coward. He would call her many things if he could see the state she had gotten herself into since he had died. As her muffled sobs rapidly became wails, Amorette sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around herself. Never before had loss felt so immediate to her. It was like an actual pain somewhere inside her that wanted to destroy her from within.

Amorette didn't know how long she sat on her knees like that for, with tears streaming down her face. She was still crying when exhaustion drove the floor to meet her and she lay, curled up in a ball. Vaguely she wondered if the rainwater outside was as cold as the floorboards beneath her cheek. Amorette didn't remember falling asleep but she felt the strange sensation of almost waking as something nearby her knocked repeatedly. The muffled sound stopped soon after though and Amorette was glad as it let her return to her slumber.

"I've sent her maid to fetch the room key," confirmed Constance as she led four musketeers down the hallway until they stopped outside Amorette's rooms.

"And you're sure she's not still asleep?" asked Porthos.

"She can't have been asleep since this time yesterday afternoon!" Constance cried. "And I knocked so hard I think the people on the floor below heard me."

For a moment they all seemed to be contemplating what to do before Athos knelt before the keyhole of the door. Closing one eye he peered through into the room beyond before shooting back up to his full height. "We don't have time to wait for a key." Looking towards Porthos, who was the strongest of them all he said, "Break it down."

Such was the expression of worry and fear on Athos' face that Porthos didn't hesitate to do what Athos had said. With one swift kick the door flew backwards, the lock completely broken. Athos rushed into the room quickly followed by Aramis. "Fetch a doctor," Aramis threw over his shoulder before he was even close to Amorette.

With D'artagnan undertaking the task and scurrying off and Porthos blocking the now damaged doorway, Athos and Aramis landed on the floor beside Amorette who lay on her side, facing away from them. The noise of the lock breaking seemed to have woken her and she stirred a little as Athos took a slim arm in his hand to roll her onto her back. "She's freezing," he whispered to Aramis as he touched a hand to Amorette's cheek.

"I'd say she's been here all night," Aramis muttered. "We need to get her warm, quickly."

Athos nodded and gently placed his arms under Amorette and lifted her to rest against his chest. Aramis led the way into her bed chamber, calling over his shoulder for Porthos to begin lighting fires. Blue eyes fluttered open gently as Athos placed Amorette down on the bed, propped up against a pile of cushions. Constance climbed onto the bed from the other side with a glass of water in hand. Athos ran a worried hand through his hair and looked to Aramis who was now standing back. "I'm sorry Athos," said the marksman quietly. "musket wounds and rapier gashes I can stitch very well but this is something different entirely. I am no help for what is clearly a matter of the heart."

Athos nodded even as he felt annoyance spring within his mind. He knew that Aramis was right, that they should wait for a doctor to arrive but he felt powerless doing nothing. Constance had persuaded Amorette to drink some water and behind them Porthos had very quickly succeeded in lighting the fire. As the gentle heat crept into the room Athos saw Amorette's small hand held tightly in Constance's and felt a pang of guilt for standing with his arms limply by his side. Approaching the bed again he took Amorette's other hand in his own. She slowly turned her head towards him with half closed eye-lids and Athos wasn't sure if she even saw him at all.

The doctor arrived not long after and the musketeers were forced to retreat into the hallway. Constance had promised to stay with Amorette, and so at length Porthos managed to encourage his friends to return to the garrison to await the news there. Everyone seemed amenable to this except Athos, but seeing his friends agree to remove themselves from the Ladies corridor, he followed suit. Later on he would think it a good call, as they received furtive looks from Mesdames walking up and down the corridor.

It was dark by the time Claude and Constance arrived in the garrison courtyard. Athos was pacing the length of the stables, whilst his three friends sat in quiet reflection at the table nearby. When he saw them Athos marched towards them with expectant dread written all over his face. Constance smiled gently at him to sooth his nerves. "She's awake and talking, or at least she was when we left her. She's probably sleeping now."

Athos let out a loud sigh of relief and slumped onto the bench beside Porthos. "She's going to be alright then?" he asked.

Claude and Constance nodded. "The doctor says she should be up and about on her feet within a week or so, she just needs to rest for a bit and take a bit more care of herself."

Athos nodded his agreement. "She weighed little more than a child when I lifted her."

Claude wrung her hands together in front of her. "I didn't know things were so bad. She wouldn't speak to me, and I thought she was just upset. I know I should have noticed that there was something amiss but she was so good at hiding it. She hasn't been sleeping very well or eating much at all. I don't think she intentionally starved herself. Everything just got on top of her I suppose. She was left to try and tie up all of the loose ends when Fabien died regarding his money and property and all of that; and I'm betting that dratted mother in law didn't help! Do you know, she took Amorette's wedding ring off her! I've half a mind to seek the woman out myself and give her a darn good slap-"

"Claude that's not going to help matters," interrupted Constance. "But my sentiments regarding the mother in law are somewhat the same!"

"Perhaps the ring is a family heirloom?" suggested Aramis.

Claude shook her head. "Fabien bought the ring especially for Amorette. I helped him choose it."

"We can worry about all of the material things a little down the line," Constance said. "Yes Amorette will be fine physically once she takes care of herself a bit more. She is already apologising for causing such a fuss and letting herself get into such a state, so that is a good sign in itself. It's what's going on in that mind of hers that I'm more worried about. She still hasn't said a word about what happened to Fabien; about how he passed and I think there's something in that. I think she was with him when he died."

"Pressing her won't help," said Aramis. "She'll speak about it in her own time to those she trusts once she has had time to process it for herself. I don't think any of us should go delving for answers from other sources. She may feel that we are intruding if we do so!" Aramis turned to pointedly stare at Athos, knowing that his friend was probably considering doing just that.

"What if she doesn't speak to anyone though?" asked Claude. "What if she locks it all away forever like she does everything else in her life. She never talks about her mother and father if she can help it so why should this be any different?"

Athos gently shook his head. "If things play out that way then perhaps we shall have to think of another way to deal with the situation, but as for now; Aramis you're right. We shall let her tell us." Having nothing more to say on the matter he took the stairs two at a time until he reached the captain's office and disappeared out of sight.

A week of bed rest was torture for Amorette. Within three days she felt well enough to be up and about, and Claude's constant presence was beginning to grate on her. For the first few days Amorette had enjoyed the company, and the new baby was a welcome break from all the dark thoughts that swarmed in her head. Sacha came and collected his daughter from them on the third day though, and Amorette began to miss the presence of the smiling infant who had yet to cry once. Vaguely Amorette recalled the despair at realising her newfound desire to build a family with Fabien had been dashed and for an hour her mood depressed so considerably that Claude was almost calling for the doctor again. Amorette shook herself out of that mood as quickly as she could. That way of thinking was what had gotten her into this mess.

Looking back now a week after her arrival, Amorette had had plenty of bed rest to come to terms with the fact that for her, a family was not meant to be. Strangely, she was alright with that. When she had married Fabien, she had taken on a new lease of life entirely and had become someone new. That someone had loved her husband very dearly and thought very highly of him. It was strange, how quickly Amorette's views on marriage and children had changed so quickly. She was back to her old self now though. What she might have eventually had with Fabien could no longer be, and Amorette was alright with that because to try and have that with someone else would be harmful to poor Fabien's memory. Those blackened moods that had taken her in the first few weeks after her husband had all but lifted, but it had not been easy. Every moment of every day Amorette had to remind herself just what she still had. Loss was something that she had dealt with before, and she could do so again. Her sister had never let the loss of a loved one mark her, and Amorette resolved to do the same. Those weaknesses might still be there in the back of her mind, but Amorette didn't have to let them overpower her. She was a strong woman, always had been and always would be. There would come a time when she thanked herself for not letting the darkness win.

 _ **There we go, I think even though it's quite a sad chapter, that might make some of you happy. It was always the plan that Fabien would die shortly after the wedding, and there's a reason it all had to happen, I promise. That will become clear in a few chapters' time, for now let's just rejoice in the fact that Athos may be back in the running! ;)**_


	33. Chapter 33

_**Thanks for the lovely reviews Athos554, Babs and Pallysdeeks! Still feels a bit strange people saying that they like what I've written! Time for Amorette to grow a set of balls in this chapter I think! I love Amorette for the lovely thing she does in this chapter!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Another year gone. Amorette shuddered when she thought of just where her life could have taken her if she had let it, but on the day of her twenty-sixth birthday she was really no further along than she had been ten years ago. Granted, she had made new friends and lost old ones and was now a young widow. In essence though she had returned full circle to the lost and rather unsure mindset that she had suffered at fifteen. One year ago she had still been at logger-heads with Athos and she had yet to meet the man who would become her husband for a short time. When Amorette really considered it, the time she had spent in Paris over the last year had rushed by so quickly. Three weeks of recovery and Claude's incessant chatter and caretaking had Amorette almost driven to distraction. How was it that three months almost felt like three years?

Amorette had felt well enough to be up and about a few days after her falling ill but there was a part of her that feared the questions and stares of other people. Thus, she stayed within the safety of her own rooms most of the time and only occasionally took short walks in the gardens or visited Claude's rooms to see her new baby. Claude had rather enjoyed playing mother to Amorette and had spent most of her time making sure that Amorette ate and slept properly. Amorette was sincerely glad though that Claude had seen fit to leave her alone the night before her birthday. She woke alone in her rooms and lay for a long while enjoying the silence. At length Tilda came along and opened the curtains and windows so that the sounds of courtiers frolicking upon the lawns drifted up through the windows. Amorette bathed and dressed as she normally did and then curled up on a couch in the parlour.

Buckingham visited her shortly before lunch to deliver his gift to her. Amorette's old friend hugged her warmly as she thought a brother might and then held her at arm's length to inspect her appearance. If he was upset that she had shut him out for the last three weeks, he didn't show it. Vaguely she wondered if others would be able to hide their annoyance just as well. Many times over the course of the first week of her being ill, Athos had knocked upon her door. Tilda would peer around Amorette's bedroom door meekly, fully expecting a shake of the head from Amorette as the only answer. After the first week or so he seemed to take the hint and stopped coming. Amorette couldn't think of anything worse than Athos seeing her in the state she had gotten herself into, and anyone else for that matter. Only her maid Tilda, Claude and Constance were able to come to her freely.

Buckingham had been good enough not to press the matter when Tilda had turned him away the one and only single time. He didn't come again until Amorette wrote him a note that she was well and would see him if he wished to call upon her. So there he sat opposite her with a large box on the table between them. Amorette knew what would be underneath the lid of the trunk and so she did not immediately rush towards it. Instead she let her friend tell her of his travels since she had last seen him. Buckingham was only too happy to fill the silence as he always did, and seemed to sense that more than anything Amorette needed him of all people to keep to a sense of normality whilst with her. He barely asked her a single question about herself and Amorette was immensely glad for it. She didn't feel that she would ever be ready to answer certain questions about the last month or two of her life and if she ever were, she wouldn't be answering them to Buckingham. Her friend was always so mischievous and decidedly pleased about one thing or another that Amorette did not recall a time when they had really touched upon matters of their hearts in an in-depth manner; so to have him behave as he normally did around her was comforting. She wanted everyone to behave as if nothing had changed, but she couldn't help it if they didn't.

At length Buckingham had Amorette open the lid of the trunk and Amorette let out an appreciative gasp. She had expected Buckingham's gift of another dress to be of a rather garish colour and flamboyant in design and shape but the silk that flowed through her hands was something entirely different. A coloured dress would have had to stay locked in the trunk for a great deal of time because Amorette was still in mourning, but the one before her now she could wear very day if she so wished. It was like nothing that Buckingham had ever picked for her before. Black silk skirts were overlain with a grey taffeta that almost created a shimmering effect, and the heavy black velvet mantle draped very nicely on top. The bodice was of plain black velvet also, but the neckline was encrusted with tiny pearls in a swirling pattern that carried on into the tops of the sleeves. It was perfect. Amorette felt a tear roll silently down her cheek as she felt Buckingham move across the room and hug her from behind. He didn't need to say anything. The simple gift of the dress and the gentle embrace that he held as Amorette admired the dress was more than enough to convey her old friend's feelings.

Buckingham left shortly after, and Amorette tucked the dress back into the trunk and moved it into her bed chamber. Not long after, a sharp wrapping at her door told her that she had yet more visitors. Feeling rather tired as she made her way to the door, Amorette hoped that it was not someone who would choose to stay long. With Tilda out running errands Amorette was forced to answer the door herself and she hesitated as she laid her hand upon the door handle. Facing the rest of the world was not something that Amorette felt ready for, but then she supposed that she never would be if she kept hiding herself away. Gingerly she opened the door a little and peered out. From the other side, Constance beamed at her warmly. Letting out a sigh of relief Amorette let the door swing open and Constance bustled in with a large tray in her hands. Amorette was too preoccupied by the pretty pastries and coloured marzipan that decorated the tray to notice that Constance was not alone.

Only when Amorette went to close the door again did she notice that Aramis and D'artagnan were also in the room. Amorette gave a small smile, even though inwardly she was groaning. Moving away from the door Amorette led them into the middle of the room towards Constance who had placed the tray of sweet things on the table. Birthday greetings and well-wishing's followed and Amorette did feel a bit guilty about resenting their presence.

"I thought I'd humour that sweet tooth of yours," exclaimed Constance happily.

Despite the fact that Amorette's appetite was still struggling to return to her completely, she couldn't deny that the spread upon the tray looked delightful. "Oh please tell me you didn't steal all of this from the kitchens!" she joked as she sat down with her three friends. "You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble."

"It could have been far worse," muttered D'artagnan. "If we'd left it to Claude to arrange something for your birthday you'd have been attending a ball in your honour in the great hall, not afternoon tea!"

Amorette grimaced. The thoughts of what Claude would have created if not for Constance forcibly taking the reins made her feel a little ill. She wasn't ready to be the centre of attention in any shape or form, and even afternoon tea with some friends would have seemed far too much to her a few hours ago. "Well then; I am glad that you three are here and not Claude. I'm certainly not ready for one of her parties just yet!"

"Which is what we thought," smiled Aramis. "But we didn't feel that your birthday should go unmarked because of it. We did consider inviting a few others to come along with us but we thought our merry little party of four was just enough for afternoon tea."

Amorette didn't miss the warning glance Constance threw Aramis' way then and knew instantly by other people that he meant Athos. Amorette was sincerely glad Athos was not in attendance. the thought of those piercing blue eyes searching her countenance sent a shiver down Amorette's spine. She was only just coming to terms with Aramis and D'artagnan who had surely been grilled with what not to say beforehand by Constance, but Athos was on another level altogether. Amorette knew that she did not have the strength yet to deal with all of her feelings when combined with the weight of Athos' gaze upon her.

They spent a happy hour sipping tea and enjoying the sweet spread that Constance had presented. Amorette found immense amusement at watching two hardened musketeers drinking sweet tea from dainty tea cups and D'artagnan made her roar with laughter when his little finger of the hand holding the cup poked out, making an escape from the others. Glancing towards Constance the smile dropped a little from Amorette's face. Constance was smiling at her rather sadly and Amorette wondered if it really had been almost three months since she had laughed properly. Her mood dispelled pretty quickly after that.

"Are you coming to la balle de Pâques this evening Madam?" Aramis asked.

For a moment Amorette stalled. It was the first time that she had remembered what festival day her birthday happened to fall upon that year. Then she thought of the wonderful new dress hidden in her room. "Yes, I think I feel up to it. So if any of you see Claude, please tell her that you found me in good health and humour. Goodness knows she doesn't need a reason to stop me doing something!"

Her friends took their leave shortly after, and she was left in the solitude and silence of her rooms. Amorette truly had forgotten that it was Easter. That would not make circumstances any easier to bear. Her last birthday had not been spent within the palace, but rather in Buckingham's lodgings with all of her old friends and she had not thought of it then. If Amorette was honest with herself, she had not really given much thought to Easter at all in the last number of years as she rarely spent it with family. It had only really been something of importance to her since she was a child; when Athos would bring her a birthday gift and later that evening when she was alone Amorette would imagine that he had given her the gift to mark the traditional festival and not her birthday. Everyone gave birthday gifts, but for a young Comte to give a gift at Easter was something slightly different; more personal. That had been one of her rather more foolish notions, but at least then she had still some hope within her.

Trying to dispel her bad mood, Amorette returned to her bed chamber and pulled the trunk containing her new dress onto the bed with her. She freed her new dress to admire it once again, already thinking of how she could style her hair to best suit it. The reality was that Amorette would choose something simple for her hair because she had not the energy to sit for so long whilst it was styled. She dearly longed to rest for a while, but she knew that if she slept she would not wake until the next morning so Amorette moved to get up off the bed and begin getting ready. As she moved though, something else within the box caught her eye. Amorette caught sight of a shimmering white pearl and reached into the corner of the trunk and what she retrieved made her laugh. It was a thick black lacy ruff that was littered with more of the tiny pearls that decorated the dress. Amorette frowned a little as she recalled a conversation where Buckingham told her that ruffs around the neck of a Madam were not considered attractive.

Amorette knew her decision was already made to wear the ruff, something she had not worn in over ten years because they had simply fallen out of fashion a little in France. In England though they would still occasionally be worn.

Amorette was sincerely glad that she wore black. Every other woman around her wore frills of bright colours that were exaggerated by the glow of the slowly fading sunlight and they danced as if they thought the world was watching only them. Standing out from the crowd was not something that Amorette had ever desired and even less so on such an evening. She glanced sideways at Claude, who's burgundy dress fanned out around her as she turned this way and that to smile at everyone. Amorette rolled her eyes stiffly. If she had to take one more hour of this, she thought that it might indeed break her. She had been holding up a relatively good resolve, but Claude's incessant chattering was causing it to rupture. She needed to have captivating conversation of some sort to keep her mind from wandering but Claude's talk of smart beau and which hats looked well on whom had her feeling deflated. There was no point trying to slip away because Claude wouldn't let her retire to bed now that she had re-entered the world of Paris court again but Amorette was sure that stronger people would have failed this test.

Seeing her one chance in the form of the feather plumes of two familiar hats up ahead, Amorette waited until Claude was engaged in conversation with someone else and managed to slip away. She came up from behind the two men and slipped in between them. "Can I walk with you for a bit? Claude means well but the constant mindless chatter is giving me a headache!"

Aramis threw her a grin but before he could move, Athos struck out his elbow for Amorette to take. For a split second she hesitated, her mind going completely blank. She knew there was some reason why it wouldn't particularly be a good idea to be in such close proximity to the man, but at that precise second that reason seemed to have escaped her. Before another notion took her, Amorette slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and wasn't surprised when Athos pulled his elbow back into his side; thus pulling her closer to him.

"We were just about to venture outside and bear witness to the garish festivities outside," exclaimed Aramis. "If Madam would like to accompany us?"

Amorette chuckled at Aramis' flamboyant flick of his wrist and nodded. They happily walked together and admired the scenes in the Jardin des Tuileries. Inside was all formality and courtly conduct but out here, reckless abandon had set in. It seemed the younger generations of court had chosen the lawns as their nursery and many a young Monsieur and Mademoiselle frolicked as they flitted through the crowds here and there. Amorette had not expected it to be so busy outside and moved her hand slightly to gain a better grip of Athos' arm. She might have been wearing thin lace gloves, but despite that and the sleeve of Athos' doublet as a barrier there was a strange kind of energy formulating beneath her skin at the intimacy.

The crowds only thickened as they reached the lower gardens, where young messieurs were taking bets on a race they were about to have. People guffawed as one by one they deliberately collided with each other and fell to the floor. One particularly hard fall had three dandies plunging into the pool below the fountain and, dripping wet they were forced to retire very quickly to warm themselves before a fire. Everyone fell about laughing as they traipsed off and a sudden whisper flew around the groups of courtiers that fireworks would begin just as the sun set on the horizon.

A few of the soaking wet messieurs came running back through the crowds and one of them almost barrelled into an older Madam. She called her curses after him as he went, shaking her fist in the air. As they spotted yet more of the young men returning, laughing as they ran Aramis and Athos shared a look.

"I suppose I should intervene before someone does get hurt," mumbled Aramis. "How I do hate to tarnish anyone's fun."

With that the marksman was gone; and for a few moments Amorette watched his retreating back as he marched towards the maze in pursuit of the dandies. Amorette turned sharply towards Athos then. "Are you on duty?"

He nodded. "yes, albeit covertly."

"Oh," Amorette gasped and tried to untangle her arm from his. "You should have said. I did not know. I'll leave you to it then."

She was stopped though as Athos fought to keep their arms intertwined and placed his larger hand gently over her own smaller one. "There's no need for that. How better to remain inconspicuous than walking with you Madam?" Amorette stopped pulling away and looked down towards their hands that were still pressed together. There was something strange, almost alien about his touch in that moment. Much like his demeanour a lot of the time, Amorette recalled Athos' gentle touches throughout her childhood and indeed recently and they had more often than not always been cold. Amorette wasn't sure whether it was perhaps because of the simple fact since she had been ill she always felt a slight chill wherever she went or whether it was something more; but Athos' hand covering hers was warm to the touch and not mildly so. "Madam? Amorette?"

It took a few seconds for Amorette to shake off her thoughts and return to the present where Athos had stopped walking and was gazing at her curiously. "Sorry," she mumbled and pressed a hesitant step forwards. Athos followed suit and they returned to their slow walk.

For a long while there was silence between both of them as with arms still linked; they leisurely strolled through the lower gardens. There had always been something magnetic about Athos' presence that had prevented Amorette from being unaffected completely. Whilst he did have somewhat of a calming effect and she knew that with him there were no illusions; it almost felt as if her heart couldn't function properly with him in close proximity. It felt to Amorette as if it were always a beat or two too fast to be regular and on certain occasions Amorette would hear her own heartbeat above all else around her. It also wasn't uncommon for a little heat to rise into her cheeks and it pained her to think of how she blushed scarlet and probably gave herself away entirely.

His voice was so low and gentle when he first spoke again that it made Amorette jump. "Are you going to tell me what it is that bothers you so? Or are you going to carry on hiding it from the world?" Athos stopped walking again and turned to her with raised eyebrows. "You know that you may speak freely with me and you can trust that once you have spoken with me, you will never have to speak of the matter again to anyone else if you do not wish to. I will ensure it is never brought up in conversation again in your presence. Won't you tell me what it is that happened to your husband? You need to tell someone, and I'd rather that it was me."

Amorette swallowed a large gulp and for a second she considered pleading with him to drop the subject but something within those careful cobalt eyes had her giving in without much persuasion. Athos was right. The thoughts that clouded her mind since Fabien's death were slowly beginning to lift, but they never completely would until she had voiced even that which she did not wish to speak of. "It is not something that I will find easy to explain," she whispered. "But I know that what you say is right. I will hold you to your promise though; once I have told you I will not speak of it again."

Athos nodded sharply and began walking again until they reached the glistening water feature. He chose a bench set aside from where all of the other courtiers sat and for a what felt like ages Amorette contemplated just how to phrase her words. She was just about to open her mouth and speak when she caught movement from the corner of her eye and Aramis placed himself on the bench beside her. Wedged firmly between the two of them she knew that there would be no escape. Aramis was looking away, feigning interest in what the young dandies would do next but Amorette knew very well that he would be listening to every word. Strangely, Amorette felt that of all of the people he was the one she would most like to overhear her conversation. She knew Aramis would respect her wishes not to speak of such matters again more than Athos even would.

"We travelled to Venice first, then Rome before we decided to come back to France. Fabien wasn't ready to come back to Paris though. He still had writing to finish and to do so in Paris would have meant daily torture from the theatres. He hadn't fulfilled his contract of a finished play to them. That wouldn't have been the ideal environment to write in. He also wanted so show me his home in Poitier. I don't think he'd been back there in many years. He was so well travelled you know. I envied him that. I know I've been backwards and forwards to England my whole life and I've been to Spain in recent years but I never travelled the way he did. He saw so much beauty and life that we all overlook. I suppose it was the poet in him that saw life in its rarest, simplest forms.

"We spent a happy few months in Poitier in peace. None of his family visited so it was just us and his household staff. There was the occasional visitor; Buckingham and the like but apart from that we were relatively left alone. I knew the travel had exhausted Fabien which was odd as he's never stayed in one place too long. All of his journals were proof enough of that. The doctor came once or twice but said it was simply tiredness. Eventually I stopped noticing it and I thought things were returning to normal. Then one day…we'd been out walking in the morning. We returned to the house for luncheon and then we both retired to our room to rest for a while. I'd had some new dresses made that had only just been delivered the day before. I hadn't had a chance to look at them so I was pulling them out of the trunk, laying them on the bed and the chair. Fabien was lying on the bed. We were just talking…and laughing; talking of nonsense as we always did.

"I turned away to fetch something and when I turned back…" Amorette felt her voice fade away into nothing as courtiers swarmed around them, oblivious to the turmoil she felt inside. Aramis was still turned slightly away from her, pretending not to listen and Athos still had that unreadable expression. They made no forceful sounds for her to carry on or to hurry. Instead they remained silent and let her catch her breath. "When I turned back… Fabien was sitting up in bed, clutching his throat." It felt odd to Amorette to be able to speak so freely about what had happened and not feel pressured or upset. She had thought that she might have cried but that was not the case. She was glad for it as causing a scene would only have made matters worse. Amorette let out a heavy sigh as she struggled to explain what had happened next. "He was coughing, gasping for breath and then suddenly there was blood everywhere. It wasn't like he'd coughed it up though. It was entirely beyond his control, from nowhere it sprayed out. The doctor said it was something called hematemesis caused by some sort of tumour in his stomach. He couldn't possibly have known it was there and it worked so quickly upon Fabien."

For a few seconds there was silence as her two friends digested Amorette's words. Then Athos spoke. "You saw it all?"

Amorette nodded stiffly. For the first number of weeks I really struggled to lose the image from my head. Every time I closed my eyes I saw it happen all over again. I've managed to de-compartmentalise though. I no longer see Fabien like that. I remember him how he was before. I still see the blood sometimes though. That is a harder memory to shake. It was all over my clothes, and in my hair."

"That explains your lack of luggage," mused Aramis. Amorette simply offered him a nod and fell silent. There was nothing really more to say about what had happened that day. Amorette found that she recalled very little about those first few weeks stuck in Poitier with Fabien's mother after he had died. She had spent her days sitting by the window waiting for her first glimpse of Claude's carriage on the road. The mother in law was like no one Amorette had ever met before. Notoriously territorial, Inés Desrosiers had burst into Amorette's grief mere days after Fabien had died and tried to force her from the house. Luckily Fabien's lawyer was on hand to stop such orders ever being carried out. Whilst Fabien's mother had inherited other properties in her son's name, the house in Poitier now belonged to Amorette. The temptation to expel Inés had been profound in Amorette's mind, but she could never have lived with herself If she had done something so outrageous to Fabien's mother. Instead the two women co-habited for three weeks rather unhappily whilst Amorette waited for Claude to arrive. Everything bar a few simple dresses and other trinkets she managed to salvage were taken from Amorette, including her wedding ring. The household staff tip-toed around Inés Desrosiers, hoping that she would be gone after the funeral but they had no such luck. Indeed, Amorette wouldn't be surprised if she was still loitering there in the house that had once belonged to her son even now, weeks after Amorette herself had quit it and returned to Paris.

What did surprise Amorette was that a few weeks later, Inés Desrosiers was in Paris. Whispers here and there told Amorette that she had come to build a case to gain her house in Poitiers by legal means. Amorette felt slightly disillusioned by the thought of having to take the woman on in a court of law and thought it would be far simpler to give the house over and have done with it. Goodness knows she wouldn't be returning there after what had happened within its walls. Sacha Rouzet had been on hand to offer the best of legal advice concerning Amorette's mother in law and told her in no uncertain terms that Inés had no claim upon the house whatsoever and that her behaviour towards Amorette after Fabien's death would have her laughed out of court. Amorette felt a little reassured by this, but there was still the fear of coming face to face with the woman whilst she was in Paris.

In the end, it was not up to Amorette to decide when she should set eyes upon her mother in law. When Claude found out about her presence in Paris she practically dragged Amorette out of bed herself and dressed her. Amorette was frog marched into the long gallery and came face to face with Inés almost instantly. The atmosphere was decidedly tense and Amorette felt even Claude shudder a little from beside her. "Madam belle-mère," Amorette greeted the woman.

Immediately there was fire in the older woman's eyes. "Do not suppose to address me so informally Madam Desrosiers. You may have been married to my son for a time but I am no longer your mother in law."

"I wished to address you in fond terms Madam," Amorette tried for patience. "After all the gallery of the Louvre Palace is not the place for distasteful arguments now is it?"

"The only distaste was my son marrying you!" Inés' sudden outburst attracted the disapproving glares of many courtiers that moved a little closer to hear the conversation.

Amorette didn't know how long her composure would last, but if she lost it completely it might not have been such a bad thing when dealing with such a woman. "Madam you only say such things now because I now own the house that you want. You were never vocal about your misgivings for our marriage when we were first engaged. No, in fact I'm wiling to believe you rejoiced because you knew that my fortune would soon belong to your son. Fortunately, Fabien was a credit to himself and married me because he loved me. He refused to take my money when I offered it to him. Your son was a true kind and loving gentleman. Clearly such traits were not formed of your tutorage."

Amorette heard Claude gasp appreciatively. "I did not come here to be insulted by the daughter of an English-man!" Inés turned to leave but the audience that had gathered prevented her from doing so.

"Do you know how well respected your daughter in law is here?" Claude cried. "Do you know who her friends are? You should not trifle with her. It will only make you look bad. Look around you Madam. This audience is proof enough of the support she has here, and we haven't got to the most despicable decision you made yet have we? In taking your own son's wife's wedding ring from her after his death. That ring was nothing to you! Fabien chose that for Amorette himself..."

"And I'm here to take it back," Amorette finished.

"That's impossible," hissed Inés.

"Actually it's very possible. Amorette glanced towards the older woman's hand. "You're wearing it now." Amorette held out her hand to receive the ring and fell silent, waiting.

All around the room men and women alike looked on avidly; excited by the scandal of it all. A few even called out cries of support for Amorette.

Watching the eyes of Inés dart back and forth through the crowd Amorette realised for the first time that she may be about to win the argument. She hadn't thought it would have been so easy to topple the woman, but apparently court favour won out over want for the ring. After a long few minutes Inés slowly twisted the ring from her finger and dropped it rather reluctantly into Amorette's hand. "You know I was considering giving you the house," said Amorette, "But after the way you've treated me if you really want it that badly you shall have to purchase it from me; and who knows, if I get a better offer you might not get it at all!"

Enraged, Inés stormed off, pushing courtiers aside in her eagerness to leave the room. "Are you really going to sell the house to her Amorette?" Claude exclaimed. "you only got that ring back because she was wearing it, but she's taken everything else!"

"Not everything," Amorette whispered as a sly smile grew on her face.

Returning to her rooms that night, Amorette pulled out the single trunk she had returned from Poitier with. Everyone had most likely presumed that it was filled with dresses but it wasn't. Amorette lifted the lid and let it fall back with a creek. Before her were scrolls and scraps of paper littered with Fabien's handwriting. She pulled more trunks out from under her bed where Fabien had stored most of his works before they had left Paris. His mother might have inherited everything else, but Amorette had the most important part of her late husband before her on all of that paper; his heart and soul.

Spurred on by the success of getting her ring back and of the need to have some sort of action in her life, Amorette lay all of the writing out on the floor and sat in the middle of it all. With decanter of brandy she spent hour after hour labelling and sorting the work until her neck and back ached with her terrible posture. It wasn't until the first strains of grey, overcast daylight permeated the room that Amorette was finally finished. She rubbed at her eyes tiredly. It had probably been foolish of her to sit for so long in such a fashion straining her eyes but Amorette hadn't felt more alive in months.

Changing from one dress to another and throwing her hair up into a chignon; Amorette stuffed a hat onto her head, grabbed her stack of put together paper and left the Louvre. She walked through early morning Paris with a new light in her eyes, so much so that the miserable weather didn't dampen her mood. It looked as if it might rain soon, but Amorette could have cared less. Making it all the way to the Latin quarter she searched out Sacha's lodgings. When he finally made it to his door and answered, his look of shock was not unexpected.

"Madam? Is everything alright? What are you doing up and about at this hour?" despite the early hour Sacha was already dressed in breeches and a shirt. Amorette suspected he had risen early to make his way to the Sorbonne University to study for a new legal case. "Is it Claude that you need to see?" he asked as his eyes flitted upwards. "She's still asleep upstairs." Rather than rush into an explanation, Amorette simply shifted the papers in her arms a little so that Sacha could see them more clearly. "Is…is that what I think it is?" stuttered the lawyer.

Amorette nodded. "I want to publish as much of his works as I can. I have sorted it as I think it should be done, but I think I'll require some help in the matter of publishing."

Sacha smiled a grim and sympathetic smile at her and sighed heavily, debating his choices. Amorette quirked an eyebrow at him and he grinned at her. "Of course I'll help you! Did you think I wouldn't? I'm glad you came to me first Madam."

From behind the door he grabbed a doublet and some of his own papers before following her out into the street. Two hours later, they emerged from a small printing press in the Latin quarter. Both of them were grinning from ear to ear. Sacha had negotiated a very good deal for Fabien's works and Amorette was sure she wouldn't have had the first clue how to go about it all without him. They walked back the way they had come together for a while and rejoiced in their success. At length though Sacha took his leave to head towards the Sorbonne and Amorette wandered back across the river towards the Louvre.

It felt as if she had lifted a weight from her shoulders in only a few short hours. The money that would be made from Fabien's work would go towards a worthwhile cause in the form of one charity or another because Amorette wouldn't have felt comfortable at all in keeping it. It was not about the money for her. If she had her way, Fabien would be immortalised in fiction.

 _ **Time for Amorette to get back to herself in the next chapter I think! She's got a nice juicy rebellious plot to quash! Alas not much of Athos in the next chapter but don't worry. The moment we all want is only round the corner ;)**_


	34. Chapter 34

_**I only own Amorette.**_

"Peepholes?" asked the Queen curiously.

"Yes," confirmed Amorette. "I thought you ought to know as our rooms are so close by."

The Queen's eyebrows rose. "And who else have you imparted this information to?"

Amorette shook her head. "No one else yet your Majesty. I have only just discovered the ones in my rooms."

The Queen nodded as she appeared to consider something. "Mesdames," she called to her ladies who were littered all about her rooms. "You will go and cheek your own rooms now for these peepholes. If you find any you should report them to me right away. Spread the word to any of your friends you meet along the way."

All of the women began to file out, a few turning to glance back at the awkwardness of two onetime friends who were very quickly left alone. Amorette had not come to the Queen's rooms with the intention of repairing their friendship in any way, but she had not been comfortable with letting her discovery go unheard of by her neighbour.

"I was so sorry to hear about your husband," said the Queen solemnly. "Truly. I do not believe we need to be on friendly terms for me to pass on such sentiments. I have thought of you a great deal in the last months. I know it probably seems rather too little too late but I did want to apologise for the way I behaved. I believe I wasn't in my right mind."

"Are you referring to your attempt to have me killed?" There was just a hint of malice in Amorette's words, but she didn't really mean it. In truth she still didn't have the energy for such anger and disdain.

The Queen seemed strangely unbothered by her words. "I know now that I was wrong not to trust you Amorette. I see it all so clearly now. I lost a very good friend the second my belief in you faltered. I'm not asking for forgiveness, or for a return of friendship in any way. All I ask is that you hear me when I say that I regret what I said and did. I hope you understand that I am trying to rid myself of those mistrustful thoughts."

Amorette sighed heavily. "Your Majesty I never truly blamed you for what happened. I said it at the time and I'll say it again, I may know what it is like to be a woman in this world, but I do not know what it is to be a Queen. I have faced ridicule and mockery as every woman has who rises above the station that a man has placed her in. I'm only thankful that I never let any man influence me so wholly and completely that I lost that determination I had in the beginning. I cannot imagine what it must be like therefore, to be in your position. My respect for you has diminished a great deal not as a Queen but as a woman. I thought we were close enough that if you had misgivings you could have spoken to me in confidence. I looked to you as an example of an intelligent and capable young woman striving to rise to the top in a world of men. I suppose you still do that."

The Queen looked down towards her shoes for a few seconds and when her eyes returned to meet Amorette's, there was something new there; some new sorrow had taken hold. "You do not ease my guilt any, Madam. But you are right, I should have spoken with you before I acted. You were always so resourceful and trustworthy before. I do not know why I saw red."

"How do I know that will not happen again?" asked Amorette. "I would never have been uncivil to you, but I could never be your confidant much less your spy after what has occurred. How am I to know that your trust will not waver again? I would be setting myself up for a fall. I do appreciate your apology though. Perhaps if this situation with the peepholes is as bad as I fear, you will assist me in getting an audience with the King. I know I certainly don't want to sleep in a room where anyone may look in upon me through a hole in the wall."

The Queen nodded with a small smile growing upon her face. "Madam I can grant you entrance to his presence chambers but you will have to fight every man in there to be heard. He listens to me no more than he listens to the birds that sing in the trees."

They walked in silence for a time, only stopping just before the King's presence chambers where members of the nobility attended in the hopes of petitioning the King. "I suppose I shall have to keep my wits about me in the lion's den," commented Amorette dryly.

"You know, we could bypass the King altogether and simply employ musketeers to investigate your discovery Madam!" The Queen raised a knowing eyebrow. "We both have friends in certain musketeers who I'm sure would be only too happy to help."

Amorette shook her head. "Somehow I doubt that…" she mused; more to herself than anyone else.

"You know; Aramis speaks very highly of you Amorette." The Queen began to walk again and approached the doors of the presence chamber.

"Well if it is only Aramis that you wish to employ in this matter…" Amorette debated her choices as she rubbed her chin softly. "Then I may be agreeable."

The Queen laughed dryly. "No, Madam. We will need more than one man. Aramis may have many skills but he cannot search each room himself. Our tally is at fourteen now; fourteen women who have found these holes in their chambers. I think it will perhaps take even more than just our four friends. Why the aversion to their help Amorette? Are you and Athos having difficulty again?"

Amorette stared at the Queen, her hand that was half-way to her chin stopped in mid-air. "What do you mean your majesty?"

"I am no Fool Cometess." The Queen threw her a grim smile before turning towards the doors. "You still think in your heart of hearts that he wants as little to do with you as possible don't you? You couldn't be more wrong you know. Now I'm not going to pretend that I know what lies deep in Athos' heart but even if it is not love, I can tell that he greatly respects you." When Amorette's resolve still didn't waver the Queen sighed and placed a hand upon the door. "Very well, do things by the book this time, but promise me one thing? Open those resilient blue eyes of yours and see what he sees in you."

"But I've been married," Amorette choked out in a whisper. "Everything has changed now!"

The Queen sighed heavily as she opened the door and Amorette stepped forward. Just as she slipped though and saw the Queen nod her consent to a steward Amorette heard her Queen's final whisper on the matter. "You may have been married, but so has he…"

The heat of the presence chamber was almost stifling, with men pushing and shoving each other in their eagerness to reach the curtained doorway which led into the inner room where the King sat. The men jeered and argued loudly. Most paid no heed to Amorette as she tried to shuffle in between them. It was when she reached the door that people began to really notice her. Every now and again she caught sight of a disapproving glance thrown her way by one of the older gentlemen. Whispers flew about the room that she had no place in a room of politics and some of them even joked that she was here to petition the fashion of a new petticoat. Amorette rolled her eyes dismissively and kept looking forward into the next room where an even wilder group of nobles jostled as they cried out for the King's attention.

The older men were still sniggering at her when a rough push from behind nearly had her sprawled on all fours. She only stayed on her feet with the help of the young Vicomte de Turenne who threw an arm out to catch her. "Here Madam, stand in front of me," he said quietly as he moved behind Amorette. "They will not be able to jostle you so."

Amorette glanced behind her at the young Vicomte who was evidently a few years younger than herself but still managed to tower over her. He smiled at her and rolled his eyes as another man yelled an insult to her.

"I have just as much right to be here as you, you know!" Amorette called back hotly.

The men let out a roar of laughter and Amorette stamped her foot in indignation. What she had to tell the King was marginally more important than all of their petitions put together. Deciding not to dignify their jeering with any more retorts she simply turned back to face the doorway, standing a little more steadily now that she wasn't being pushed to and fro. Eventually the crowd in the room beyond began to thin a little and stewards motioned for the musketeers at the door to move aside. At once every man behind her began to trample forward quickly, all fighting to get as close to the King as possible. Amorette let out a squeak of pain as someone trod on her foot and then someone else elbowed her out of the way. "Well a little common curtesy wouldn't go amiss!" growled Amorette as she too began to elbow and push her way with the crowd.

"Now Messieurs lets not be responsible for trampling the Cometess to death shall we?" called the Vicomte. From where he stood a little ahead of her he held out his hand to pull Amorette forward and in front of him. "if the Madam wishes to address the king she has every right to attempt to do so…And I'm sure a clever little thing like her won't take up too much of his Majesty's or your time." The last statement was emphasised with a wink towards Amorette.

Despite the relative safety of the protective Vicomte behind her, Amorette still wasn't sure how she was to make herself heard over the din that the men made. They stood with their feet planted far apart to steady themselves and shook their papers in the air as they called for the King's attention. Amorette had no such papers, at least not ones that she could publicly show, and she was certainly not as loud as the men around her. Her lacking height was also going to be an issue, but it could also work in her favour if she used the men's movements to her advantage. Watching the men before her, she waited for the opportune moment when they all had their arms held aloft. Amorette was just the right height to duck underneath and she fought her way quickly to the front of the room.

Someone was already petitioning the King who looked as if he wanted to be anywhere else in that moment. Amorette found herself a little irked that the King appeared bored and disinterested in what his courtiers had to say. Whilst she appreciated that it must be tiresome listening to petitions day after day that were all of a similar nature but as their King that was his responsibility. Another man fought his way forward and grabbed the King's attention for a few seconds. When his business was concluded the King rose from his chair and Amorette knew that he would retire to his inner chambers. Amorette rolled her eyes in annoyance. Each person in the room would have to come back tomorrow, and perhaps even the day after that to have their argument heard by the King.

Suddenly Amorette decided that just wasn't good enough for her. She trod on someone's foot as the crowd surged forwards a little and she let it carry her. She called out for the King's attention along with the men as the King gestured for a select few to follow him and wasn't aware of Athos watching her from the side of the room. Throwing caution to the winds Amorette called out for Treville who walked in front of the King and it worked seamlessly. Treville turned instantly to gaze into the crowd and caught her eyes with his curious ones after a few seconds. The King noticed Treville's gaze and turned too. The sight of a woman in the melee seemed to take him by surprise slightly and Amorette stood on tip-toe with a small smile.

"Your majesty, I beg to speak with you on a serious and private matter!" Amorette called as she tried to push herself forward. She watched the King and Treville exchange a knowing glance before The King gestured for her to follow.

"You will hear her petitions for a new hat your Majesty, but you will not hear our business?" called Thomas Vavasseur.

Amorette just caught the King's smirk out of the corner of her eye as she moved towards him across the room. "Yes Monseigneur Vavasseur I believe I will," replied the King. "A petition is always much better presented when endowed with a pretty face, and quite frankly there's something pleasing about the Cometess' mouth when she speaks!"

Amorette felt her cheeks flush red at the King's compliment and followed the small party through another set of doors into a room she had never entered before. A long table and many chairs along either side, littered with books and documents told Amorette that this was the King's privy council chambers. The king threw himself impatiently into a chair at the head of the table and Treville took one to his immediate right. The three other men who had followed them did not stay with them, but moved towards another set of doors and carried on into the next room. Only two musketeers that Amorette did not recognise guarded the door back out into the presence chamber. Treville motioned for Amorette to take the chair to the King's right and for a moment she hesitated. There was something off about the whole scenario and Amorette wasn't sure she wanted to be privy to what may be about to be divulged within the council chambers.

She stared at Treville for a few seconds and saw a soft reassurance there. Amorette wondered bleakly if Treville had any idea of just what it was that lay in her pocket at that very moment. The musketeer captain was a shrewd and clever man; thus Amorette was sure something of the matter must have piqued his interest by now.

Suddenly the doors opened again and Athos marched through the room with purpose, followed by two Vicomtes, including the young Turenne who had helped her before-hand. Athos approached the table too, but hovered over Treville's shoulder rather than taking a seat. Amorette grimaced inwardly. She had come to the King to appeal because she hadn't wanted Athos to know what was going on. The King shuffled his papers gently and then turned his gaze upon Amorette.

"Very well Cometess, I am all ears. What is it you wish to petition to me?"

Amorette thought the address was quite informal considering where they sat, but she didn't waste too much time dwelling upon that. "Peepholes your Majesty. I found them first in my own rooms and when I consulted with others who currently reside in the Louvre, they found them too. In total I have a tally of fourteen women who have found these spy-holes within their rooms. Walls and tapestries are littered with the holes."

"Oh come now," said the King with a roll of his eyes. "A few moth eaten tapestries is nothing to fear Cometess. Appeal to the maître de lodgements to provide you with new apartments until the matter is resolved."

Whilst the King had been speaking, Jerome Weston had entered the room and he too approached the table. Amorette glanced towards Treville before looking at the King disbelievingly. "Your Majesty I don't think you appreciate the seriousness of the matter. These are not just moth-eaten tapestries. Someone has used tools to create these peepholes. They litter my room and those of fourteen other women. We do not feel safe in our own rooms! I myself am removing to my home in Provins tomorrow until this matter has been investigated and resolved. The Queen has also found some of these spy-holes within her own apartments."

At that last statement the King looked up and regarded Amorette with a little more interest. Before he could speak though, Jerome Weston added his input. "Your Majesty, if I may say so; it does seem odd that these holes only occur in the rooms of women. I completely understand the Cometess' apprehension. I as a father of two daughters would not wish my girls to sleep within rooms that were open to spy-masters. Whoever trivial this matter turns out to be, I believe it does need to be investigated."

It was not the King's expression that drew Amorette's curiosity in that moment, but Treville's. He had turned to glare at Jerome Weston so fiercely that it made Amorette shiver a little. She did not remember a distinct grievance between the Englishman and the musketeer captain but it was plain for all in the room to see that there really was something irking Treville. Instead of replying the King lifted some sealed documents from the table before him. "monsieur l'ambassadeur, here are those remits you wanted us to look over. They now bear my signature. Be off and do what you will with them." Weston took the documents from the King in remarkably good spirits, despite knowing that he had been formally dismissed and with a bow he left the room. "Now Cometess, there is indeed another matter I wished to discuss with you, something that was brought to my attention by Treville here."

Amorette swallowed heavily. The King knew her secret, and she wasn't sure she had gathered enough information yet. Athos was also still in the room, now looking quizzically between the three who sat at the head of the table. Amorette threw a warning glance to Treville and he caught it warily. "Athos," the captain called. "I'll be required here for some time, you do not have to wait on me. There are cadets in the garrison who need training."

The simple dismissal seemed to make Athos even more suspicious. For a few seconds he threw a pointed glare Amorette's way before leaving. Amorette knew instinctively that before the day was out he would corner her to try and wheedle information out of her.

Only when the door had closed did the conversation resume. "Cometess, I've made the King aware of some documents that were discovered recently, but we thought we might ask you to look upon them for us." From a leather folder the King produced thin tracing parchment sheets covered in what looked to be building plans. Amorette breathed a small inaudible sigh of relief. She had thought another matter altogether had been discovered. To have it discovered before she spoke of it would have been very dangerous indeed.

"I want to know every detail that you may be able to ascertain from these sketches Cometess," urged the King.

The sketches were gently pushed Amorette's way and she let her pale fingers gently caress the corner as she stared down at what was in fact new designs for gardens of great chateau's in France, but these designs were written in English. Amorette poured over the sketches one after another, faintly aware of the still silence as the men around the table waited for her explanation of what she saw.

"These sketches look like the work of an Englishman called John Tradescant. He's a gardener of note," mused Amorette. "But I do not know why he should be designing the gardens of French homes. The shapes and designs do not look dissimilar to his work that I have seen before but why would a Frenchman employ such a man?"

"Precisely," muttered Treville. "The King had thought to ask Jerome Weston about this matter, but I persuaded him not to. There are others at court who may have had an understanding of these sketches, but I did not feel that they were wholly trustworthy."

"You were right to come to me and not Jerome Weston," said Amorette. "He is a friend of John Tradescant. I believe he would have remained loyal to his friend and denied all knowledge of these sketches. Now at least with my confirmation you know who drew them."

Treville glanced at each person around the table in turn before speaking. "This must go no further than this room, but I am undertaking an investigation into the English Ambassador Jerome Weston. If Sir John Fairfax is purchasing land in France I have no doubt that a simple search of his office would find us just what we need in regards to these sketches, but I must have some evidence before I conduct such a search."

"Yes," nodded the King. "You must and I won't allow such a search to happen until you bring me proof Treville. I do not want to start a civil war within my court over conjecture."

"There may be a way to do such a thing," said Amorette. "Why don't I enquire as to the English property market whilst in his company; before I leave tomorrow morning that is. I'll say I'm considering purchasing property in England and he will not suspect anything untoward. If someone else were to enquire, it may cause some confusion and suspicion but I'm half English." Amorette pushed her hand through the folds of her skirts and into her pocket to clutch the wad of tightly folded paper. For a few seconds she hesitated, not sure if she wanted everyone to know she was still receiving letters from her Buckingham, begging her for help. To show them the letter was the right thing to do though, so after a few hesitant seconds she produced it. "There's something else you ought to know about."

"What is this?" asked the King.

"It is a letter from the Duke of Buckingham your Majesty. He is currently staying not far from Weston in the country." Amorette swallowed nervously before continuing. "He has uncovered a plot that is the design of some of his English peers. He has asked me to dissuade them in their rebellion, and he believes as I am loyal to him I will not speak of it to anyone, but I'm afraid my loyalty to France takes precedence. I know exactly why those sketches may have been drawn up. This plot, nicknamed the Denbigh plot amongst its conspirators aims to kill prominent French nobles who have heirs apparent who are English. They want to take large properties and amounts of land into English hands. What for, Buckingham does not say in his letter. But in time I'm sure such assets would be put into use to somehow harm France."

Treville took the letter from Amorette's outstretched hand and cautiously unfolded it. "The first meeting is in four days' time. That leaves very little time at all for us to make arrangements." He looked towards Amorette suspiciously then. "Just when did you receive this letter Cometess?"

Amorette was slightly affronted that Treville thought she would have kept the letter hidden indefinitely. "I only received it this morning, I was planning to bring it to you tonight but those peepholes distracted me slightly."

"Nevertheless, we still do not have time for the necessary arrangements. You're sure that none of your agents may be called upon to act at such short notice your Majesty?" Treville looked towards the King, a slight glimmer of hope still present.

The King took the letter from Treville and perused it for a moment. "No, not at this hour in the day. I cannot spare them Treville. Even if I could we do not have the time to implant them securely and safely within this coup. My spy network is excellent, but this is much too difficult to achieve in a short space of time. There is however an agent of the Queens who I believe just became available."

Amorette glanced up to find the King staring at her knowingly. "If you mean me your Majesty then you're making a poor choice. I do not have the skills needed for such a task!"

"Cometess I was made aware a while ago, as was Treville of your service to my wife the Queen. I know you are loyal to France, otherwise your possession of this letter would have caused quite the stir. I know the lengths you went to, to ensure that France's secrets stayed just that. My wife has placed her trust in you many times over the last few years."

Amorette couldn't believe what she was hearing. "This is something different entirely your Majesty!"

Treville sighed heavily. "Alas Cometess there is little we can do in terms of the English men if found guilty apart from expel said men from France. There is however the task of finding out who the main conspirators are, and if there are any French are involved. We need to know before something serious happens. If we can shatter their barely even thought of schemes before they begin to plot, we may rid ourselves of any risk at all. I do however I agree with you that you are not the person for undertaking this task."

Amorette was glad she at least had someone on her side. The King was nonplussed by Treville's statement. "On the contrary Captain, I think the Cometess is just who we need. You have English friends and family, you know their ways and workings. There are other Englishmen at my disposal, but I do not trust them as well as I do you Cometess. Your services rendered to the Queen are proof of your loyalty. Just what is it exactly that Buckingham thinks you will be capable of though?"

Amorette shook her head in confusion. "I do not know. He seems to think I will have a way of dissuading these men. Granted, very few know I was in lieu of the Queen but people will be aware by now that we were close friends. I do not think I shall be trusted as a fellow conspirator. For that reason alone, I believe I am not up to this task. I think my friendship with Buckingham is the only reason that my presence will be tolerated. The Duke is not the kind of man to be criticised by his peers. If I am there as his guest, they will not disagree with such a choice in his presence." Amorette reached for the letter which lay flat on the table and read it through again. "In four days' time these men plan to meet in Romilly-sur-Seine. That's just an hour or two's ride from my home in Provins. I am already making plans to leave tomorrow morning for Provins so why not let court think I have gone under the guise of annoyance that this peephole dilemma has yet to be resolved. If you can guarantee that Buckingham will be exonerated from any charges, I'll ride out and meet them. I'm not doing anything other than observing though. Any ideas you may have about me implanting information can be forgotten. I know how these men work, they will see through my lies eventually."

The King nodded at her in what Amorette thought was what he perceived to be a grateful smile. "I understand that Buckingham wants to stop this plot from proceeding, and that he simply keeps it to himself to preserve the lives of his friends. He will not face charges, but he will not be welcome at French court for the foreseeable future."

Treville was not happy in the slightest, Amorette could tell with just one quick glance towards him. "Monsieur I understand that you are hesitant to trust the Duke of Buckingham but in this matter he is innocent. He was made aware of a coup and he is trying to flatten it before it gets off the ground-"

"But he did not bring the matter to the King himself Cometess!" interrupted the musketeer. "No, instead he tries to enlist your help in keeping the secret buried."

"This was exactly the reason I was hesitant to speak of the letter," Amorette said quietly. "I know Buckingham isn't trusted, but I can read him like a book. If I sense something is remiss, I will retreat from these dealings entirely."

Vicomte Turenne spoke for the first time. "Treville, time is something we do not have. Jerome Weston is not the end goal. We need to bring this coup to its knees before word can spread. The King is right; we must act fast."

Amorette knew Treville was entirely against the King's quickly concocted plan. "Why don't you go then Turenne?" the musketeer captain barked harshly. "Since when did we send women into the lion's den alone, with barely any ammunition to fight off an opponent who is likely already suspicious of them! Your Majesty, you must forgive my severe opposition to this scheme but I will not put my weight behind a cause I do not believe to be just."

Amorette couldn't help smirking. In her head she was imagining Athos' reaction if he had heard this very conversation. He wouldn't have managed to control most of his ire as Treville had done. Athos would have flown into a rage. What was it with men thinking that women were incapable of succeeding? Granted, Amorette didn't think much of this plot of the King's but there was the slightest chance she would come away with some information and however little it was, it might be better than nothing.

"I'll do it, I've already said that," she muttered.

The King nodded his agreement. "It is settled then. You have until tomorrow morning to leave as planned. As soon as the scheduled meeting takes place you will return to Paris."

Treville shook his head. "If this is going to work your Majesty and appear believable, then the Cometess should tarry a little in Provins afterwards. Meeting these men again along the road on her way back to Paris would not be the best form of cover."

Amorette interrupted before anyone else could speak. "You are both right. I do not want to tarnish my cover, but the information should get back to Paris as quickly as possible. I'll see how the land lies with these men, see where they travel on to. If I can leave that very same day, I will. If not, I'll be back as soon as I can. If all else fails I can send my maid back with the information. We shall say her mother is ill and that she returns to Paris to be with her."

A steward entered the room and passed a note to the King. Within seconds he was on his feet and they all rose too. "I think that's business concluded, don't you Treville? I'm leaving all of this in your capable hands. Cometess, I expect you to report back to Treville with any information you gather on either subject." With that the King retired to his own apartments and Amorette tried to shuffle out of the room as quickly as possible without catching Treville's eye.

"Cometess, tell me you do not wish to do this and it will all stop!" The musketeer captain cried as he caught up with her and gently took hold of her arm to turn her to face him. "It's written all over your face that you do not wish to go through with this so do not be coerced into it. It's dangerous and I think you're right. No one can say for sure if these men will buy your story. Go to the King and refuse this task. Stay in Paris and help me skewer Jerome Weston from here!"

Amorette shook off his hold. "I appreciate your concern Treville, but I do not see what good investigating Jerome Weston will do. He is an Englishman at French Court. He is not here as a French subject, but rather to do his job. He is the English King's eyes and ears and we have always known that of any English Ambassador here! I do believe he is permitted to be a little patriotic. I will enquire as to English homes for sale and will report back to you before I leave tomorrow, but I can't see what good it will do."

"Patriotic?" Treville cried. "That's exactly why he should be investigated. He is supposed to be here to ensure that negotiations between France and England run smoothly, not to throw obstacles into the way." For a few seconds there was a mad anger in Treville's eyes and Amorette had the sudden desire to step back, but she knew that the soldier's anger was not aimed at her. He took a deep breath and let his anger dissipate. "After tomorrow morning I will not be here should anything go wrong you know. The King is leaving for Versailles at some point tomorrow for the hunt. We will only be gone for two days but that is time enough for this to fall apart completely."

"Then go to Versailles Monsieur. Go with the hunt and have a little faith in me." She turned away and made herself walk the length of the corridor confidently, even though there was little courage within her any more. Perhaps Treville was right about this being a lost cause. She really didn't see how she could infiltrate this coup successfully and surely that meant she would face death, or even something much worse at the hands of these rebels? Reaching the stairs and racing down them and out into the courtyard, Amorette was almost ready to retrace her steps back into the privy council chambers when she walked right into someone.

Lord de Winter grabbed for his hat to stop it falling from his head and righted himself and Amorette, who let a small gasp escape her lips. "Edmund!" she cried, completely at odds with the disgraced English lord being in Paris.

He smiled weakly back at her and bowed towards her. "Cometess, it's good to see you again."

Amorette didn't believe that for a second. "And I'm glad to see you two Edmund." The last time the two had set eyes upon each other, they had argued viciously. Amorette didn't resent the man for it though, quite the opposite. He had not been to blame. Her sister Ann had married Edmund's brother, baron Sheffield and then went on to kill him. Thus she had taken the name Milady de Winter. Edmund had been the one to tell Amorette of her sister's eventual death and he had been rather affronted when the news upset her.

"Forgive me Madam, but I am late for an important meeting," said Edmund as he bowed again and scuttled off across the courtyard. Amorette didn't believe that either. For a few seconds she stood and watched his retreating back. She felt sorry for the poor man's defeated demeanour and pale countenance. He had clearly given up entirely. Her sister had made him the laughingstock of English parliament and his own family and disowned him. Hell bent on destroying Ann after his brother's death, Edmund had become fixated on revenge. It had lost him everything. _And they said that women were the ones to bring about hell when scorned?_ That man had lost absolutely everything, and didn't look as if he wanted to fight to get any of it back any time soon. When Amorette thought about what he had been dealt in comparison with her own life, it helped her make her decision. She may have lost her husband, and any chance for a family but she still had friends and people who evidently thought her trustworthy and capable. That was a lot to have in the world. If they thought her capable of greatness, she ought to think so of herself. She would go to Provins, and from there ride out to meet these rebels. Whatever happened, at least she had fought for something.

 _ **I think I re-wrote this chapter about six times! I kept leaving out bits of plot in my eagerness to finish it and then pulling my hair out when it didn't make sense! As you may be able to guess, I'm quite eager to get to a certain moment we've all been waiting for! In my head it's two chapter's away but knowing how this story has expanded so far, let's say three! I thought Amorette should get her teeth into a nice juicy bit of action first.**_


	35. Chapter 35

_**I only own Amorette.**_

The knock at the door surprised Amorette. She looked out of the windows into the deep darkness and knew that it was relatively late. She had tried to send Tilda home hours ago to pack some of her own things for their journey to Provins but the maid had refused the extra time and had helped Amorette arrange her own packing instead. They had spent another hour after that talking by the light of the fire in the parlour about the house in Provins. Tilda was remarkably interested in Amorette's mother's old home and listened to the stories Amorette told with avid interest. The knock came as Amorette was slipping into bed and Tilda was making her way to the door to head home for the evening.

Amorette sat up in bed and waited as she heard Tilda open the door and the beginnings of a whispered conversation. A few seconds later Tilda's face peered around the bedroom door. She smiled a little guiltily at Amorette. The smile almost told Amorette the answer to her question before she had even asked it. "Who is it?"

"It's a musketeer Madam, says he needs to speak with you tonight."

Amorette groaned. "Which musketeer?"

Tilda couldn't help the smirk that appeared on her face then. In the short span of time that she had spent working for Amorette, the observant maid seemed to know her employer better than Amorette did herself. "Athos."

Despite her inner turmoil Amorette considered letting him in. Wouldn't it be better to have the conversation with him now rather than have him pouncing on her the moment she left her rooms the next day. Tilda stood waiting in the doorway expectantly for an answer. Amorette groaned again and said, "Oh very well, let him in then. But I'm not getting out of bed to receive him."

Tilda scampered away from the doorway and Amorette heard the tell-tale whispers as she let him into the parlour. Amorette pulled the thick counterpane of the bed up to her chest partly to preserve her modesty, and also because for some strange reason she still felt a chill despite the large fire burning in the grate. When Tilda showed Athos in, Amorette was pleasantly surprised to see that he didn't glare at her harshly or remain nonplussed with a cold expression. Instead he was remarkably well mannered.

"Tilda you can head off home now, make sure Léo walks you to your door," Amorette said. If keeping her maid on after her marriage had seemed pointless to Amorette, it had been nothing to how she had felt regarding Fabien's valet. There was little enough work for Tilda, but Amorette had nothing in the way of work to offer Léo apart from walking Tilda home at night. He obligingly took care of Amorette's horse from time to time and Tilda could always find him there in the stables with the horses. Amorette had no doubts that a diligent and bright young man like him would be snapped up in no time by some newcomer to Paris looking for a valet. In fact, she suspected Léo had refused any job offers because he was trying to pluck up the courage to pay particular attentions to Tilda. He had been offered one or two positions, and Amorette knew this because she herself had written the boy a letter of recommendation.

Her maid was standing in the doorway observing their late night caller avidly. She slid a sly grin to Amorette before saying, "Are you sure Madam? I don't mind staying."

"No, go home. I have kept you far too long this evening as it is!" Amorette waited until Tilda's footsteps retreated into the parlour and out into the corridor before she spoke again. "I can't possibly imagine what this late night call is for Athos."

She watched the pleasant smile drop as Athos took a few steps closer to her. "Your conversation with Treville earlier, what was it about?"

Amorette let a chuckle escape her lips. "I was able to help Treville and the King by providing some information, but beyond that Athos, I don't really know if I can say any more. You know yourself that I am not one to break someone's confidence in me. I'm sure Treville will tell you himself though if you ask."

"It seemed quite a serious conversation Madam," mused Athos. "Indeed when Treville returned to the garrison afterwards he was out of sorts, some might have even said angry."

Amorette sighed heavily. "Look Athos it's not that I deliberately want to keep something from you, but I'm not sure who I'm permitted to speak with it about. Treville trusts you and your friends above all else in this world so ask him." For a few seconds they looked into each other's eyes, and Amorette felt her composure shatter slightly under his intense gaze. "Be at the garrison tomorrow shortly before mid-day. I'm to meet Treville there. If he hasn't told you by then, I'll tell you myself."

That at least seemed to appease the musketeer as Amorette watched him sigh in defeat. "I suppose I shall have to wait until tomorrow then. You know surely that I'm not attempting to pry."

"Aren't you?" she asked wryly with an eyebrow raised. She had to hold back a laugh as she saw Athos' face blanch a little.

"First and foremost Madam, we are old friends. Something about the atmosphere of that room led me to believe you felt uncomfortable there. I'm simply enquiring because I have a care for you." It was a few seconds after Amorette had spoken that Athos realised she was only teasing him.

"Don't lie," she chuckled. "A part of you is bursting to know because you were sent out of the room."

Athos smiled good naturedly. "So was the English ambassador."

Amorette's smile fell slightly. "I think that is a matter for another day." She sank back into the pillows behind her slightly as they both felt the end of the conversation.

"Tomorrow then," he stated with a nod.

Amorette nodded too, but he made no move to leave. For a moment Athos continued to gaze at her in a way that sent a shiver down the back of her neck. To fill the void, she glanced towards the chair before the fire, where another thick counterpane was draped. "Would you mind," she asked as she gestured towards it with her hand. "It's rather chilly in here."

"Cold?" he asked as he lifted the counterpane and moved towards her. "It's the height of summer." He observed her closely then as instead of handing it to her, he held the counterpane as if he meant to drape it around her shoulders. Amorette sat forward slightly and felt a strange jolt in her stomach as Athos' fingers gently brushed her neck as the counterpane was set onto her shoulders. Instinctively Amorette's hand rose to wrap it tightly around her at the same time as Athos lowered his hand slightly. For just a split second their fingers brushed against each other before Athos moved away. It seemed to Amorette as if in the time it took her to gasp inwardly at the unexpected contact Athos had made it all the way across the room and was biding her good night.

Despite knowing she needed to rise at an early hour, sleep evaded Amorette for quite some time. It was not just Athos' odd behaviour that had her tossing and turning all night, but every aspect of the day that had just passed. She was certain that acquiring information on property sales in England from Jerome Weston would be perfectly straightforward; she just hoped he didn't ask too many questions. It was what the King had asked of her that made Amorette's head spin slightly. Amorette was walking a very dangerous path when it came to involving herself with these English gentlemen who thought they could somehow win back half of France. Granted, there would be those there who were friendly to Buckingham and who would accept her presence without question but there could also be friends of her father's there. Those men would take whatever she said with a pinch of salt, and would more than likely demand that she remove herself from the group.

When daylight first reared its head Amorette was already searching out Jerome Weston. She knew it was more than likely that he was in meetings so she dawdled outside his offices for over an hour. Men came and went but there was no sign of the English ambassador. When He did eventually emerge Amorette had seated herself on a bench a little way down the hallway. Carrying heavy account books and documents; Jerome Weston looked as if he was setting off for another set of meetings elsewhere.

When he saw Amorette though, he halted in his steps. "Cometess, one would not expect to find you on this side of the Palace. Where you waiting to see me in particular?"

Amorette supposed that Treville and the King would have had her play the situation rather casually, but Amorette didn't have time for that. She also knew that Weston wouldn't buy it. He knew her, and he knew of her turbulent relationship with her father so he would never really buy the fact that Amorette wanted to purchase land or property in England. "I did monsieur l'ambassadeur, but I didn't want to interrupt your meetings. I'm sure they were all far more important than anything I'd have to say." Amorette wrung her hands together in a show of nerves.

"Well you do seem worried about something," mused Weston. "Come into my office and speak with me in private Madam, I was on my way to deliver some documents to a friend but I'm very early."

Amorette let the ambassador lead her into his small office that was overflowing with legislation books and documents. She had always known that he was a well learned man but something about the chaos of the room in which he worked from led Amorette to believe even more so that he was a very knowledgeable and cunning man. He clearly liked to ensure that he knew just what he was talking about. Amorette took the offered seat on one side of the desk whilst Weston sat opposite her. He cleared some room on the worn desk that sat between them and leaned towards her with his elbows on the surface. "Now Madam, what is this about?"

Amorette took a deep breath and began to speak, hoping that Weston would by her tale. "I wondered Monsieur if you would have a current list of properties for sale in England; properties within the right expense bracket of course?"

Weston's curious glance was not unexpected. "Properties Madam? Surely between you and your father you own enough in England. I did not think purchasing property there would have been something you'd be at all interested in."

Amorette gave a small smile. "You're right Monsieur. I have no intention of purchasing land or property there. I have no want of being in such close proximity to my father in any way. Actually, the house that I own there; I was thinking of selling. I simply wanted to grasp an inkling of how much money I could expect to garner for the sale." Amorette hesitated, wondering if she should lay it on a bit thicker. "There is also the matter of my father's properties that he plans to sell or trade." This was no lie. Amorette had heard from Buckingham that her father was planning to sell two homes that he currently owned, but Amorette had no care for them at all. "I believe one of those houses was also in my mother's name in most of the documentation. I just wondered what he may expect to sell such a house for. You see, I'm not entirely sure whether I'd be entitled to any of that money, considering it was also in my mother's name. In truth I am hopeless with all of these legality matters but I am at a loss. I want to ensure when I do sell or lease my own house there, that I will not be tricked by some one or other of my father's friends."

Amorette fluttered her eyelashes just the way she had seen her sister do many times, adding just a hint of despair to her expression. Weston was peering at her over his now steepled hands shrewdly. "Madam, I'm not sure I can give you the answer to the latter query. In terms of the legality I would not be able to give you an accurate reply without knowing all of the particulars. But I do understand why you question the matter." Weston sat back in his chair then, an expression of warmth gracing his features. It was something that Amorette had seen many times and felt comfortable with, but today there was something entirely new there and Amorette couldn't put her finger on just what it was. "In truth Madam I have long sympathised with your plight. We have discussed your father on many occasions together and I know that your childhood was made a painful one by him. Whilst I know him mostly by reputation only, I do not really think he would have the power to usurp your money in such a way but I do see where your concern comes from. I have always admired your attitude and resilience, and you may need those attributes if your father is about his tricks again. You are indeed a credit to your mother, but staying silent and letting your father take what he wishes from you is not the right thing to do. If he does attempt to take the money from the house sale, the correct authorities in England will be on hand to help you. I myself can express your fears to the correct people if you wish it." He turned in his chair then to thumb through some documents on a shelf behind him for a few seconds as he continued to speak. "You have the uncommonly good qualities that I strive to see in my own daughters Madam. I believe that they would have benefited from an influence such as yours. The friends they keep, whilst sweet and innocent are meek and mild mannered. They have no inclination of strength or self-preservation. Since their mother's death, I believe everything that you yourself embody is what I have singularly looked for in a potential second wife."

Amorette felt her stomach churn. This conversation had taken a stranger route than she had intended. She watched as Weston found the document that he had been looking for and decided to try and curb his conversation. "Monsieur I haven't met your daughters, but I do believe with your fine upbringing they shall be a credit to you. I'm sure they are bright and clever young things who are perfectly influenced by each other. As you will be aware, I'm quite the supporter of a woman deciding upon her own attributes and influences. You must not try to stamp out completely the things which make your daughters so unique. On the subject of my own plight, I may appear to want to overlook my father's behaviour in some respects but I can assure you I do not intend to let him have a penny of my mother's money."

"Spoken like a woman with experience, and I know you've given quite a lot of your fortune up to charitable enterprises Madam. That's another thing I admire about you, even if I don't quite understand it," commented Weston dryly with a small smile towards Amorette. "It's not something I believe I would let any wife or daughter of mine do. Now, this property list is a few months old, but I can add to it now for you." Weston dipped his quill in ink and then at the bottom he added the details of a new property from a letter on his desk. "As I said, I cannot instruct you on the legality of the matter without all of the correct information, but if you can come by said information, I'll certainly look into it for you. In the meantime, here's a book that might help you along a little. Oh and Madam, I'd appreciate it if that list didn't find its way into anyone else's hands. The last house has only just been put on the market and there are some issues regarding potential buyers. I believe it is a private sale that's taking place. I've been instructed not to speak of it myself, but as its you…" Weston winked as he handed Amorette the property list along with a small volume of English law.

Having received what she had come for, Amorette couldn't wait to leave his office. She stood up and Weston moved to the door to show her out. "Thank you for this help Monsieur, it's greatly appreciated. You've been a good friend to me," she lied.

Weston opened the door and leaned against it, forcing Amorette to take a slight step backwards so that he wasn't leaning over her. "I can see you're worried about this Madam. I know you may be hesitant to trust me in case your father discovers you have been looking into these matters and I understand that completely. But I want you to know you can come to me if you so wish it. We have been excellent friends indeed…"

Weston stopped for a beat and Amorette turned and walked hurriedly away, clutching the book and the list to her chest. She knew he had been about to say something about them becoming more than friends and she didn't think that her stomach contents would have remained settled if she had heard such a thing. How on earth had she missed that! Clearly Jerome Weston had been thinking a great deal upon the matter to give his opinion so decidedly. Amorette wasn't sure if she felt nauseous or her imagination was mimicking the sensation, but she wasn't putting herself in the situation where Weston could declare such things to her again. He was old enough to be her father after all!

Back in her own rooms Amorette threw the book down on the table, determined not to look at the volume at all for fear Weston would have written some sickly love note to her within it. Perusing the list, Amorette didn't see any property of a particular note until the one Weston had added himself. Sure enough, Denton Hall which belonged to Sir John Fairfax was up for sale or lease. Fairfax had only one home in England and with French family not far from Paris, Amorette thought it was extremely likely that he intended to cross the channel. None of the other six houses on the list that met the criteria would have been a prospect for Fairfax as they were too far away from his current property. She didn't know why the King and Treville were looking into Fairfax, but she knew that Weston had stayed there a few times and was a friend to Fairfax. That had been why he had known to add it to the list, Amorette suddenly realised. She was willing to bet the letter he had taken the information from was written by Fairfax himself. Amorette grimaced when she realised she might have had the chance to swipe the letter.

Shaking off the thought she readied herself to leave. Treville had the list, and evidence that Sir John Fairfax was on the move and that would have to be enough. She certainly wasn't planning on asking Jerome Weston for any more help. Pinning her hat onto her head she left her rooms and made for the stables where she was to meet Tilda, the law volume left behind on the table in her rooms. Together they rode out into the streets and took a detour across the river to the garrison. When Amorette climbed the steps to the captain's office and entered, she was not surprised to find Athos waiting there with Treville.

Taking off her hat she took the chair offered to her for the second time that day, but this time it was in decidedly more comfortable company even with Athos present. A look towards him told Amorette that Treville had at least told Athos about his planned investigation of Weston. Amorette presented Treville with the list. "Fairfax is selling Denton Hall, and I cannot see any of the other properties on that list being to his liking. I don't think he will simply purchase another English house, unless of course he is building his own. I told Weston I wanted to observe property prices should I want to sell my own. He bought it completely."

Treville nodded. "Still, it does not give us definite proof that Fairfax is coming to France."

Amorette was sure they wouldn't tell her, but she still dared to ask, "Why Fairfax? I've never considered him of any importance myself."

"The King's agents in England have been watching him for quite some time. His French family are elderly and have a vast fortune. The agents believe he means his French family to come to some harm. In return he will inherit their fortune and property," said Athos. Amorette risked a sideways glance at Treville, who was deliberately not looking at her. "The King hold's Fairfax's French relatives in high esteem as they were close confidants of his father's. He wishes to ensure their safety." Athos moved across the room and took the chair adjacent to Amorette. "The captain thinks that Weston may have been feeding Fairfax information. If he is doing so, he is guilty of treason. It is treason because Fairfax is potentially mustering an army to kill the King. Every Frenchman with a slight grievance against the house of Bourbon will rally behind any catholic man with a large enough fortune to see out the winter months on a campaign to raise an army."

"There was a letter on Weston's desk," added Amorette. "It's where he took the details about Denton Hall from. I only thought afterwards that it might have been from Fairfax. I probably could have swiped it if I'm honest. Sorry."

"No matter," Athos commented gruffly. "We shall simply investigate this ourselves. This list is nowhere near proof enough. You should not have been sent in the first place."

Amorette caught Treville's eye then. He was warning her not to begin an argument, but Amorette couldn't help herself. Shooting up out of her chair she stuffed her hat back into her head and turned to Athos with a disdainful look on her face. "I'm sorry that my best efforts weren't up to your standards Athos but clearly I didn't know the whole story. Captain Treville agreed yesterday that I should take that list and he would make use of it. He asked nothing else of me and explained practically nothing to me! Do you know what would happen if Weston found out I'd handed that list over to you? Do you know what I risk by aligning myself against the English?"

Athos stood up to match her, a bored expression all that he outwardly presented. "Amorette you are French, nothing serious can come from your actions in giving this list to us. Besides, it's only a property list. What harm can come from you accidentally dropping it? Granted they could burn down your house in England but I know you have no care for it whatsoever."

"I don't know how well Weston and my father really know each other but I'm willing to bet Weston would go straight to my father if he finds out he's being investigated. England may not be able to touch me by my father needs no incentive to come down on me like a ton of bricks! I don't need another reason to be at odds with him!" Amorette felt anger surging through her and turned away from him, intent on tearing from the room. He hadn't been there in the room with Weston that morning. He didn't know how uncomfortable that atmosphere had been. Amorette didn't really know if Weston was capable of doing her any serious harm if he found out that the list had been passed into Treville's hands but she had many English friends. If word got around that she had taken that list for any reason other than what she had stated, they could all turn against her. There was also the fact that her father would accuse her of tarnishing their family' reputation if he found out about it. Amorette didn't fear her father disowning her; actually she would have considered it the best decision her father had ever made. He had almost strangled her last time she had been alone in his presence, and his anger was something that Amorette was well accustomed to.

Athos made a grab for her arm before she could go much further than a few steps. Turning her to face him again he said, "I'm sorry Madam. I didn't think of the connection. But surely it is only a list of properties? It cannot be that important?"

Amorette tried not to snap at Athos again, and resisted the urge to wrench her arm from his grip. Instead she gently shook it off on the premise of fixing the position of her hat. "I think it is important. Weston said that Denton Hall is being privately sold, and that it's only just been decided to sell it. Why that's important I don't know. He said that list is not current, that's why he added Denton Hall at the bottom, but I rather think it's an official list. Denton Hall hasn't been declared to the authorities if you ask me. If you want, I can try and get that letter, but he might bury it with all of the other books and letters he has. There's quite a lot of it in that office."

Treville stood up too, and Amorette realised that she had forgotten he was in the room. "That might be something to think on Madam, but let's see where this list gets us for now. You're leaving today are you not Cometess?" Amorette nodded. "Let's discuss it when you return again."

Treville nodded once to her and left the room, lifting his hat as he did so. Amorette and Athos were alone now and the air changed slightly. "I'm sorry for reacting so rashly Athos," Amorette sighed. "I'm a little stressed and tired, that's all."

Athos nodded, moving closer to her again. "You're still cold?" he asked curiously as he pointed towards Amorette's thick cloak.

"It's a travelling cloak Athos," she muttered. Amorette was well aware he might be about to comment on her wellbeing and say that she wasn't looking after herself, but she had heard enough of that from Claude and Constance.

To her surprise though, he dropped he subject entirely. "You're leaving for Provins today, when will you be returning?"

"I don't know Athos." Amorette moved towards the door again. "That depends on how quickly this peephole matter is resolved."

Athos smirked. "Porthos is taking care of those proceedings himself. I'll see to it he investigates your rooms first and then the holes can be covered. We can send word when it's done for you."

Amorette shook her head in mock annoyance. "I don't want special treatment you know! I'm actually looking forward to a few days in the country."

"When are you leaving?" Athos asked as they moved out onto the balcony.

Amorette nodded towards the stairs and gestured to Tilda, who still sat atop her horse in the yard, "I'm leaving now. Any later and we'd be riding into the night." At the bottom of the stairs Amorette turned to her old friend again. "I'll get that letter from Weston when I come back. It shouldn't be too difficult. He leant me a book, so I'll return it and find some excuse to look for the letter."

Athos nodded. "I don't agree with your involvement in all of this but I'm not in any place to exert authority over you, as I think you've told me on numerous occasions. Just be careful." Amorette tipped her hat to him and turned towards her horse. An idea flitted through her mind just as she reached out to take hold of the bridle. It seemed Athos had the same thought. "here," came his voice from behind her. Turning her around he lifted her into the saddle again. "And be careful on the roads. Don't stop along the way otherwise you won't reach Provins before dark."

Amorette chuckled. "I know that Athos, I'll be perfectly fine." To emphasise her certainty, she lifted her cloak slightly so that he would see the brace of pistols around her waist. Athos flashed her something of a smirk which was an unusual expression to cross his face and handed her the reigns. He didn't let go immediately though. His fingers lingered against hers for just a few seconds longer than they should have and then they were gone. _That's twice in the space of twelve hours, is he deliberately doing that?_

 _ **Tiny baby steps taken in this chapter to them finally getting together, but there's no Athos next chapter unfortunately. Amorette will be slightly tied up with trying to stop the English plot!**_


	36. Chapter 36

_**I only own Amorette.**_

 _I see the boys of summer_

 _Dylan Thomas, 1914 - 1953_

…I see that from these boys shall men of nothing

Stature by seedy shifting,

Or lame the air with leaping from its heats;

There from their hearts the dogdayed pulse

Of love and light bursts in their throats.

O see the pulse of summer in the ice….

…But seasons must be challenged or they totter

Into a chiming quarter

Where, punctual as death, we ring the stars;

There, in his night, the black-tongued bells

The sleepy man of winter pulls,

Nor blows back moon-and-midnight as she blows…

…I see you boys of summer in your ruin.

Man in his maggot's barren.

And boys are full and foreign to the pouch.

I am the man your father was.

We are the sons of flint and pitch.

O see the poles are kissing as they cross.

"Winter will never come for the likes of us. Should we die in battle, they will surely sing of us, and it's always summer in the songs. In the songs all knights are gallant, all maids are beautiful, and the sun is always shining." — _Brienne, A Clash of Kings_

The knot in Amorette's stomach grew tighter and tighter the closer they got to her home in Provins. She and Tilda arrived just as the sun was setting on the horizon. There were a few minutes more of a strange sort of muted daylight with the pale half-moon barely visible against the violet coloured, cloudless sky before darkness enveloped them. The night was strangely comforting to Amorette. With the darkness came the comfort and knowledge that this meeting of English nobles had yet to take place and was in fact days away. Amorette felt now more than ever that she may have made a mistake in agreeing to meet with the plotters but there was nothing that could be done to prevent it now.

During their journey, it had crossed Amorette's mind that she should feel within her some sort of guilt for betraying her English heritage. Her father was English after all, with lineage that he could trace back through some of England and Scotland's most noble families. Amorette had no care for her father, and hadn't for many years but she did have English cousins who she felt some sort of obligation to. It was not a strong familial bond, but it was something at least. Amorette did not feel shaken at all by the fact that she was siding with France though. England in the form of her father had given her nothing but pain and misery. Whilst her cousins and English friends had not themselves done Amorette wrong they had not exerted their power to help her when she had needed it most. Her father was still controlling aspects of her life even now, whether she admitted it or not. Lord Barclay was still able to frighten her even when he resided across the channel. Granted, Buckingham had driven Amorette's father away from her many times in the last lot of years but when she was a young girl her friend had done little to help her. No one had dared to stand up against her father eleven years ago when Amorette's mother was ill and she was at the complete mercy of her father. Even Buckingham had steered clear of any direct conflict with Lord Barclay.

For that, Amorette would always be cautious of one of her closest friends. She knew in her heart of hearts that Buckingham hadn't really had any choice back then. His father held the title of Dukedom and left his son to frolic through English and French homes whilst he counted his coin. They had been close though, Amorette knew that. If Buckingham had only spoken to his father, something might have been done. In effect Amorette almost believed that she had held more power than Buckingham in those days. When her mother died, Amorette was suddenly thrust into this new world of prosperity. The title and property afforded to her meant that she was no longer under her father's thumb. Within days of the funeral Amorette had packed up all of her belongings and left her father's Chatau for the secluded one in Provins. Having sole ownership of the home meant that Amorette was responsible for herself entirely. Her father could no longer attempt to force her to marry someone of his choosing or lock her away from prospective suitors entirely. Over the years, his want of a respectable marriage for his daughter had wavered considerably. Often Amorette's father would refuse a perfectly good marriage prospect and back then Amorette would not have understood why, but now she was beginning to see things perfectly.

Lord Barclay probably had a list of six or seven men of the peerage who he believed worthy of his daughter's hand in marriage, and perhaps only three or four of those who could be influenced enough to take charge of Amorette's fortune. Despite all of the trouble that this caused, Amorette was resolutely glad of the few meaningful friendships she had managed to carry with her through the years. It might only be a small circle, but it was more than enough for Amorette. Of course, her lack of appearance in English society would certainly hold her back when she ventured out to meet with the men involved in the Denbigh plot. Buckingham's peers would accept her out of respect for him, but older gentlemen with much more experience would give her a wide birth. It needn't matter too much though. If Amorette went about things the right way, she would only need to meet with them once to get the information she needed. By the time the morning of the meeting arrived Amorette had run over her behaviour and what she would do and say so many times that she felt that there would be little opportunity for her to fail. She had better not, because she didn't intend on attending a second meeting.

Lying in bed in the early morning light with the windows thrown wide open to let the cool morning air in, Amorette kept reminding herself that Buckingham expected her to try to reason with these men and convince them not to go through with their plans. Amorette knew well enough how to do such a thing and in her mind she had drawn a map of just what she should say. She had been a close confidant of the Queen and knew better than any of them just how things worked behind closed doors at the Louvre. Amorette also had an understanding of French law, particularly in similar cases to herself where women had inherited titles and property. On top of all of that, Amorette knew that she was an intelligent woman with her own attributes and reputation to recommend herself without anyone else's help. A year ago she would not have considered such qualities something that she herself could claim but Amorette was strangely at peace with who she was now. She was a young woman who had run her own household for many years and her if a little short experience of married life would only further recommend her. This new confidence was an alien feeling, but something within Amorette wouldn't let her loose it. After Fabien's death, some days Amorette felt that all she had left within her was the confidence she outwardly projected and it had seen her through a lot over the last few months. Now, it was time to put it to real use.

She lay in a nervous state, with so many thoughts interrupting each other that Amorette began to feel the niggling worry that she couldn't do what had been asked of her. Before the sun was even high in the sky she had risen and dressed in a loose fitting silk shirt and some breeches that Tilda had found in the attic the night before. Amorette thought she recalled the shirt as something her mother had liked to wear with her skirts around the house without a corset. The breeches though must have at one time belonged to a young boy for when Amorette pulled them on and tucked in her shirt, her reflection in the mirror startled her. She had not noticed just how much weight she really had lost in the last few months until now. Her fifteen-year-old rather plump self would never have believed that the day would come when even she would think herself too thin. Amorette's stomach was too upset with nerves for her to eat anything that morning, but she resolved to eat a good hearty meal when she returned.

It crossed her mind then, that she did not know how long this meeting would last for. Amorette could only hope that it did not take up most of her evening. She had no want of sitting around a table with such men all night. Pulling thick doublets on over her shirt Amorette immediately felt perspiration begin to build. She and Tilda had seen the sense of adding a few outer layers of clothing to try and bulk up her frame a little so that she would not be recognised by any villagers or people from the local town and Amorette sent up a prayer of thanks that such bulk warranted wearing a corset rather pointless. Already struggling in the heat, she could not have imagined trying to get herself onto a horse and across the countryside if she had conformed to the constraints of women's clothing. With a hat on her head with her hair tucked into it, Amorette allowed Tilda to throw a cloak around her shoulders and the deception was complete. Staring at herself in the mirror, with the brim of her hat pulled low over her face Amorette remarked that even her own father might not recognise her. The only slight give away was where the cloak ended and a pair of worn riding boots revealed just how thin her legs were underneath the bulk. On horseback though, such a thing would go unnoticed. Barely able to move in all of the clothing, Amorette realised that for the first time in months she did not feel cold; perhaps it was the adrenaline already coursing through her veins that had stopped her ever present chill.

When Buckingham finally arrived to escort her on the hour's ride to a country Chateau near La Tour César, he made no comment about Amorette's clothing, but she caught the disapproving look he threw her way as he first caught sight of her.

"…And don't talk about Paris; to any of them!" Buckingham added another instruction to a long list that he wanted Amorette to follow.

"George I'm not about to rush in there and talk about the time I had tea with the Queen am I?" Amorette cried as they catered through a small village. "If I'm honest I don't know what good you think my presence will do for these men, but I certainly know what will not aid circumstances. As far as they will be concerned, I am to have nothing to do with their plots. I am simply there as your guest to offer guidance and to try and convince them to disband!"

Buckingham slowed his horse as the homes around them began to dwindle and once again they were venturing into remote grassland. Eventually his horse came to a standstill and turning in his saddle, he made a grab for Amorette's horse's reins. "Madam I must tell you that when I wrote to you asking for help, I thought I had the measure of things in this matter, but it appears I do not. I think what we are about to walk into is much greater than either of us could ever have imagined. When I wrote you I had a list of names in my head of those I thought involved in all of this, and I thought myself almost chief amongst them. Now though, I think very differently. I have heard whispers of other Englishmen staying in the vicinity who would have no other reason to be in France than this matter. They are all powerful, influential, backwards thinking men. What we have agreed to do together may not be possible amongst this greater group. What I know for certain is that we will meet with those select few who are my friends at La Tour César and together we will discuss the matter further, but I'm not sure that I know exactly what we will be discussing. I don't think I'm as important in all of this as I perhaps thought I was. Authority has been coming from another direction and that makes us powerless. We are going in blind!"

Amorette tugged her reins out of his grip. "George why did you not tell me this before we left my home? Granted, I would not have seen sense in turning tail and hiding away but it would have been good to know. We still do not know how well my presence will go down amongst the men you count as friends. If there are other fractions of this group that we do not know about, then frankly I think we are in way over our heads."

Buckingham sighed heavily. "I know; and I'm sorry. Perhaps we may not even have to meet with the others though. Let's show our faces and see how the land lies. If something seems off, we can make our excuses and leave."

Amorette knew that was out of the question as soon as La Tour César came into view above the dense woodland they travelled through. They had veered off the road a little way to try and cut short their journey and when they eventually did return to it, following the patch of early daylight ahead that was the edge of the woodland Buckingham caught a glimpse of his brother in law ahead of them. William Fielding, the first earl of Denbigh was a shrewd political man in his early forties who Amorette had only had the occasion of meeting once or twice in her life. He greeted them warmly, introducing the man with him has his steward, Harry Astor. Astor was a man that Amorette knew nothing of at all, although on first inspection his clothes and posture led Amorette to believe that he too was a gentleman of the peerage. The men talked quietly and seriously for most of their journey onwards whilst Amorette stayed silent. Once or twice she thought she caught Astor throwing her curious glances but she paid no heed to it.

Amorette's nerves were still frayed, even though she was sure William Fielding had not been surprised to find her traveling with Buckingham. After all, Fielding was his brother in law and knew Buckingham's inner circle well. There was something about his beady black eyes though that Amorette didn't trust and she questioned just how influential he had been within the plot they had concocted. The plot had been named after his title and that may have simply meant that the meetings were held in his home for a time. Nevertheless, Amorette was sure that her nerves would yet receive a far more vigorous shake as the day wore on.

At length they approached the town and Amorette expected that they would continue on along the road towards the tower that overlooked them on the hill, but the men veered onto a side road and she followed. Immediately Amorette knew by the tree lined pathway that a great house was seated at the end of the road and wasn't surprised when a country manor house not dissimilar to her own in Provins came into view. Evidently, they were not the first to arrive. Five horses had been dismounted close to the doorway and from the stable yard beyond the house they could hear the shouts and cajoles of the stable boys taking care of yet more horses.

As soon as Amorette stepped through the doorway though, she cursed herself for thinking that this house was anything like her own. She had never particularly thought of her home as remarkably light and airy but compared with this building it certainly was. The dark stained wood panelling of the hallway made the space seem far smaller than it was and the suits of armour and weaponry mounted on the wall would leave any visitors in no doubt whatsoever that they had entered a place of calculated antagonism. From a set of double doors to their right, the rumble of male conversation permeated and Amorette thought she saw Buckingham blanche a little. He may have known every man in the room beyond, but Buckingham did not know or care for the conversations they were having. Ushered out of her top few layers of clothing, Amorette didn't feel any less suffocated. The air in the room was stifling even with the front door thrown open. There was an oppressive feel to the room that they knew would only worsen when they entered and took their seats in the room beyond.

Suddenly from behind them there was the sound of French conversation as three men descended the staircase. Fielding presented first himself and then everyone else in the vestibule to them. Amorette wasn't able to shake the slight expression of shock from her face in time and one of the man looked at her warily. She had not expected to find Frenchmen involved in this plot in the slightest. That was going to make things all the harder. The men's short conversation over, the French led the way through into the room where the conversation was rife. In an elegant but dark dining room that ran the whole length of the side of the house men sat around a table just as long. Amorette heard her own sharp intake of breath and tried to school her features a little more. Even from her position in the doorway she recognised very quickly some of the men there. Robert Grey and Sir John Stanley were in deep avid conversation at the other end of the room and James Hamilton sat at the head of the table, scratching notes with a quill. There were even more Frenchmen present in this room, and Amorette could easily tell them from the English by the cuts of their coats. It seemed the stubborn English had neglected to try and disguise themselves in any way. There was one striking detail that resonated in Amorette's mind as she glanced about her; of all of the men in the room William Fielding was the only one over thirty-five. These men surrounding her were all young dashing bachelors who had yet to see any real warfare. _Is that what this is all about_ ; Amorette wondered.

Taking a seat at the table with Buckingham, she turned to look at each man in turn. Young, bright, lively eyes gazed back at her. Whilst Amorette was willing to bet the whole house held an ambience of trepidation in this room there was such a feeling of fresh energy. Every man was proud to be here with his peers, to place their name down upon paper and commit to something that had scarcely gotten off the ground yet. Instinctively Amorette rolled her eyes. These men were not wise and clever. Instructed to sign their name upon parchment that was passed around they did so willingly without a thought to where it might end up and when the parchment reached Amorette there was a still silence all around the room. Everyone's attention was upon her in that moment and Amorette had no choice but to take the proffered quill from Buckingham and scratch her name there too.

These foolish boys thought that Amorette may not be entirely trustworthy and they were right to think it. She supposed they all secretly mistrusted one another really. If they were all honest with themselves, they were all out for personal gain. This was no scheme to preserve the rights of the English people or to uphold religious sanction. This was child's play for gold. At once Amorette knew that there certainly must be another branch of this group hidden under a rock somewhere, and when she and Buckingham overturned that rock they would find all sorts of trouble lurking there. These boys of summer had settled for very little in their search for glory. In return they would receive nothing at all. In fact, everything that they had to hold dear would be stripped from them in time. Amorette did not feel sorry for them in any way, but she did think it a shame that such young minds had already fallen by the wayside.

Their names all signed, someone rose to pull the drapes across the windows to shut out what little light there was in the room. Shrouded in darkness, tappers lit more candles and books and parchment suddenly made an appearance at the table. This was the beginning of whatever it was they had been tasked with arranging. Amorette listened carefully as William Fielding and Nicholas Davies gave their opening speeches to the room but found nothing of interest there. They talked of unity and the strength of English politics for a long while before inviting Frederick Hobart, who was known as Barty to everyone in the room to speak. He was a stout fellow with ruddy red cheeks and thick red hair that continued to fall back into his face after he had swept it away. Amorette marvelled at how these men thought Barty a good moral driver or speaker. He couldn't have been much older than twenty, with the look of a boy who spent most of his time at feast. This was probably the boy that most of them had laughed at in the school room many years ago.

"Now we come to the important matter of our meeting," said Barty proudly with another sweep of his misbehaving hair. "We wish you all to head out into France over the coming months and compile a list of properties currently owned by the French that may fall into English hands at some point or other. For now, this is not a definitive and final list but something to start from. Realistically, we wish to target only those with direct English inheritors with no French generations in-between. There is also the issue of painstakingly figuring out what each property is worth. Of course in most cases there will be other arrears to consider also. I know that some of you have only arrived in France within the last few days and you must rest for a while. Take the time to look over the information we have gathered already. You are all welcome to make use of the vast libraries here and in the homes of our French friends to acquaint yourselves with the ins and outs of French law but I do feel that one amongst us may be able to save us the trouble of such a matter." Barty nodded in Amorette's direction and she felt every eye in the room upon her in that second. There was nothing else she could do but nod. "Excellent Madam. Now all that remains for the moment is for us all to decide where we shall send each other in our ventures, although I would suggest that anyone who has been in France for some time already and who is ready to leave at the earliest convenience heads further south. That way, we will use our time most wisely. The first plans will be drafted from this very house in exactly two months' time. You have two month's gentlemen, to compile a list and make your return journeys. Then we begin the painstaking task of narrowing down those lists into real targets together. We must choose wisely, for the properties and lands will be inherited by our English peers and will thus be a weapon against the French. The land will be our army so you must remember that these properties must have vast lands and tenants; and all the better if there's a title into the bargain. Fraternising with the French is something I would not advise risking. Our French counterparts in this room should be help enough without you having to compromise some Comte's young daughter. We are not here to fetch ourselves wives after all! We must organise ourselves now into groups. If there is a particular area of France that you are more familiar with, I suggest you make use of that knowledge and pass it on to others here today."

"Let's all get to work now," called William Fielding. "We must have something to present to our peers when we meet the second fraction later today!"

Amorette and Buckingham shared a swift glance with each other. Buckingham was right, this was bigger than they had thought, and even the likes of William Fielding who appeared to be in charge was really under someone else's thumb. The sound of chairs scrapping against the floor drew Amorette back from her thoughts as the men began to move around the room towards others who may have shared common ground on some particular area of France. Not wishing to appear disobliging, Buckingham too stood from his place beside Amorette and moved towards Robert Grey.

His seat on Amorette's right was swiftly taken by Oliver Norton. "Of all the people I expected to see here today Cometess, you are not one of them!" he exclaimed with a dashing smile. "Not that your presence is unwanted of course."

"Speak for yourself," grunted a man from across the table whose name Amorette did not know. "Personally I don't know which fool agreed to let the enemy sup with us!"

"The Cometess is half-English," corrected Oliver Norton but a few other men had cried out protest of Amorette's presence.

Buckingham shot up out of his seat. "I've already spoken for the Cometess! She is my friend and your ally."

"She's part of the French Queen's inner circle!" yelled another man from the corner of the room.

Amorette rolled her eyes in annoyance. She had fully expected some sort of opposition to her presence. "It's true that I was part of the Queen's inner circle some time ago," Amorette called to the room at large. "That is no longer the case. Indeed, my feelings towards the house of Bourbon is greatly changed messieurs! I know none of you will believe a word of it but I do have my reasons for being here. The Queen herself tried to have me killed whilst I was still in her employ!"

At that a few men jeered mockingly and Amorette didn't really know what else to say to them. It was quickly taken out of her hands however. All of the men looked up sharply, staring at a point over Amorette's left shoulder. "What the Cometess says is true gentlemen! As a man of the court I should know!"

Amorette turned apprehensively to find Jerome Weston standing directly behind her. He gave her a small smile of reassurance and gestured for the men to return to their work. "How on earth did you find out about that?" Amorette muttered to him. "That was a closely guarded secret!"

Weston threw her a wink. "I have eyes and ears everywhere Madam." For a few seconds more they held eye contact, with a cold feeling of dread settling in Amorette's stomach. She didn't know how her mind quickly jumped to the thought, but in that second Amorette was sure that Jerome Weston was the creator of those peepholes in the Louvre Palace. When he finally broke eye contact and turned to walk length of the room Amorette let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. The men nearest her had also been watching the exchange avidly.

"Regardless of all of that," cried Oliver Norton in an attempt to take the conversation back to its roots, "Have you lost your minds and forgotten who this Madam's father is? Every one of us in this room knows the cost of betraying a man like Lord Percy Barclay! I'd say that for his own daughter it would be far more severe than it would be for any of us!"

Norton threw Amorette a smile as the men muttered under their breath, but did not voice any more protestations out loud. Amorette turned just in time to catch sight of Weston snatching the list of names from further down the table and folding it to place in his doublet pocket. She needed to get that list! A thought also began stirring in Amorette's mind that perhaps Jerome Weston was far more involved in all of this than any of them knew. Perhaps he had even orchestrated the whole thing. That was a thought for later though, she knew very well and turned her attentions back to Oliver Norton who was speaking with some Frenchmen across the table.

Norton was very aesthetically pleasing, with a jawline that might have been chiselled from marble. Amorette had met him once or twice in her younger years but he had not changed much at all. Whereas Buckingham dripped charm and sultry whispers, Norton needed none of that. Fair hair was gently swept away from his face to reveal those prominent cheekbones and gentle hazel eyes. Amorette knew many of her English cousins wanted to win his hand in marriage and she couldn't blame them. He was incredibly good looking, almost like the marble busts of roman Emperors that her father had littered all around his great houses in England. There was a strange excitable air about Norton, as if he didn't quite know what he was doing but was determined to do it anyway. It was a real shame in his case, for Amorette knew that he was a good man. She suspected he wouldn't be so appealing once he had been stripped of any titles and fortune and perhaps punished even further for his involvement in this plot.

Amorette suddenly remembered the reason Buckingham had asked her to attend this meeting in the first place. Leaning forward, she glanced briefly at some documents as the men opposite them got up from the table and Norton fell silent.

"You know," she whispered carefully, "Buckingham has told me about what all of you are planning. I know you would all expect as much from me but I don't think it is a worthwhile enterprise. Months of planning could all be rendered worthless if one simple mistake is made. There are so many things that could go wrong."

Norton shook his head, a look of a amusement crossing his face. "Of course I woman like you would say that. You are careful and concise. The time for noise and even violence is now Madam. We have been left with no choice."

Amorette didn't really know what he meant by that. "Whatever your end goal may be Monsieur, do not disregard my good opinion. I'm French, with friends in high places. I've been a member of Paris court for a year now and moved within circles that have greatly opened my eyes. You may see all of these loopholes through which to throw Englishmen but the King and his spies will find you out!"

Norton threw her a shrewd look as Jerome Weston took the vacant chair on Amorette's other side. "The thing is," said Weston, "That England is tearing itself apart now. These Puritans want to flush us all out. Cromwell is biting at the King's heels and we need to assert our power. For so long the English monarchy has proclaimed itself King or Queen of France and now we must assert that power. Beginning to take it by stealth is what we envisage doing for the time being, as to openly revolt would start another war that we cannot afford."

Does the English King know of this plot?" Amorette asked.

Weston shook his head. "He proclaims to know nothing, and we have told him as much. As ever though, he is a shrewd man with even shrewder advisors so I'm sure they have their noses to the ground. I'd be astonished if he didn't have some intelligence of our plans or of other plots that may or may not have been concocted."

Harry Astor had been listening from behind them. Stepping forward into the candlelight he smiled Gently at Amorette. "Cometess I'm sure you are aware from your time at Paris court how well a King must know his courtiers. Half of English court is in France right now, so I'd say our King Charles knows a lot more than he is willing to admit to."

"Your plan is mad; you know that don't you?" said Amorette as she looked around at them all incredulously. "What I mean is, I understand completely why you do it, but it can never work! French law will have most if not all of your targets too well protected. French money and property will not fall into English hands so easily. It's going to take a lot more than a few suspicious but seemingly accidental deaths and French manor houses to win all of France!"

"That Madam, is why you are here!" cried Weston. "Your kind of knowledge of French law and of the French King is invaluable. I may be the English Ambassador, but there are certain doors at the Louvre Palace that are permanently closed shut to me! You on the other hand…" He trailed off and lifted his glass of wine to his lips.

Amorette noted vaguely that it seemed very early to be drinking, and she had not thought Weston a man to do so. Then again, she hadn't really known him at all. Amorette fell silent and let the men talk around her. She was quickly realising that these men did not think of their cause as child's play. They were doing it for a reason and she wasn't really going to have much sway over them. Just as the thought entered her head that she should go and Fetch Buckingham and quit the house, Jerome Weston rose from his chair and left the room himself. Amorette's mind flew to the list that he had placed in his pocket.

Jerome Weston would be staying in this house no doubt, with a room filled with letters and documents that would surely incriminate him wholly and terribly. Where else would he hide it after all, when all here were his friends. Amorette needed to get into that room.

 _ **I've had a shocking case of writer's block trying to flesh out the next few chapters, so I'm not sure they're my best! I'm quite excited to write a certain moment we have all been waiting for so all of this seems not very exciting compared to it! Once I planned it all out a little though it seemed to take on a life of its own. Yet again what I thought might be one chapter has had to be cut into three.**_


	37. Chapter 37

_**You're getting two today as I'm feeling a little generous! That's a bit of a lie! I'm just a little bit excited to write a certain moment soon so I rushed through another chapter!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Feigning the need to freshen up, Amorette had very quickly been offered the use of Oliver Norton's rooms within the house to do so. Moving nervously to the upper floor of the house, Amorette hid in an alcove for a while and watched the still hallway. All of the doors were the same and Amorette knew that she didn't have the time to search them all. Vaguely aware of young jovial voices beginning to float upwards from outside Amorette moved to the window and watched as most of the young men flooded outside into the sunshine whilst chatting merrily. A few of them lit their tobacco pipes and the thin grey wisps of smoke began to float upwards along with their voices. Through the open window Amorette breathed in the slightly acrid but tantalising smell of the tobacco for a few seconds as she listened to Buckingham's vicarious laugh.

Suddenly a figure dressed all in black drew Amorette's attention; Jerome Weston was marching through the throng of young men towards the stables. Amorette watched his retreating figure soberly. That list was still in his pocket, and was more than likely going to remain there. Amorette could make her own list of course, but to have one in Weston's own handwriting would have even more of the desired effect. Amorette's eye line was drawn once again by Buckingham who had noticed her standing out of the window. She jerked her eyes up again in the direction of Jerome Weston before they flitted back to Buckingham. Her friend flashed her a mischievous grin. She and Buckingham had been in sync for a very long time and it was something Amorette feared she might have lost since her marriage but what happened next assured her that they were both very much able to read each other as well as ever. Buckingham began whispering with Oliver Norton and then suddenly he turned sharply on his heel so that his left side was facing the window. Then he ran three gentle fingers through his hair; _The third room on the left_.

Amorette grinned in spite of herself. Creeping along the hallway towards the door in question she knocked, sure that no one was there but wanting to check all the same. When no sound came from within Amorette gently pushed on the door handle and it swung wide open. The foolish man had thought his secrets safe here in a house filled with his comrades. There was very little paperwork within the room, and Amorette first tried the spare clothing that was neatly folded in a trunk at the end of the bed. There was nothing beneath the clothes and nothing in the pockets. The paperwork that sat on the table by the window seemed to be accounts for Weston's own household. Amorette sighed in defeat. Perhaps he was not so foolish after all. Turning back around suddenly three books sitting in a pile caught her eye. Amorette approached the small shelf and stared down at the strange collection incredulously. One volume was a small pocket book on English law which might be expected there, but the other two were something else altogether. There was a rather worn copy of Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra which Amorette found entirely questionable. What on earth was a grounded man like Weston doing with such a thing in his possession? Amorette supposed she may have underestimated the man's taste and moved on to the third volume of the pile.

For a few seconds Amorette simply stared down at the moleskin cover of the copy of Thomas Moore's Utopia before she reminded herself to breathe. Not as surprised by that book as she was by Shakespeare's play, Amorette gingerly opened the cover to thumb through the book but something got in her way. Tucked neatly between the pages was a folded piece of parchment. Amorette felt a strange sensation in her stomach as she placed the book back on the shelf and unfolded the letter that bore John Fairfax's signature. Not bothering to glance at the contents of the letter Amorette crept out to the hallway window to ensure Jerome Weston was still outside before she scurried towards Oliver Norton's rooms. There she found quill and parchment and began to copy out the contents of the letter, noting with satisfaction that Fairfax seemed to indeed be planning to purchase land in France.

Once finished Amorette slipped back into Weston's rooms to return his letter to where she had come across it. Looking around the room one final time, Amorette knew there was nowhere else to hide anything and left. Returning to the lower rooms of the house some time later, Amorette glanced outside into the midday sunshine and saw men all around her beginning to mount their horses. Buckingham led her own horse to her before mounting his own.

"Where exactly are we going?" she asked.

"To meet the second contingent," announced Oliver Norton from behind her. Amorette turned as he approached and lifted her into the saddle. Glancing across at Buckingham who now held her cloak and hat, she felt a fission of fear lace through her stomach. Just which high ranking Englishmen made up the second contingent?

"I know it's a warm day but I'd say these are still needed Madam," said Buckingham as he handed over Amorette's belongings. She nodded grimly as she placed her hat back upon her head and tucked away her loose strands of hair without looking at her old friend. Surely he had to know what it was that worried her now. Did her father have some involvement in all of this?

The cheerful chatter and guffawing died as soon as their party moved off, the only sound remaining was the crunch of gravel under the horses' hooves. They rode in silence back out onto the road and headed north. With a sickening jolt Amorette wondered if these men thought to march on Paris now? It may have been dark and gloomy inside the house but once she had stepped outside Amorette had been reminded that it was not yet midday. Riding at a swift pace, they could make it to Paris around sundown if they set of soon. Turning North west though, Amorette began to feel her equilibrium restored. They were in fact heading out towards a vast countryside of hills and forests. Upon reaching the trees some of the men began to talk again, more comfortable now that their words were muffled by the overhanging canopy of leaves. Amorette on the other hand stayed as silent as she could and was glad that Buckingham never left her side. After a short ride they approached what appeared to be a clearing at first sight. Upon drawing closer, Amorette realised it was a sheltered glade littered with blue forget-me-nots and a gently flowing stream. In the sunlight it was a pretty spot.

There was something new in the air though. There was a strange sense of anticipation, and on Amorette's part, fear. In complete and utter silence, they waited for over an hour. Amorette was not the only one who repeatedly glanced around apprehensively. From her position at the back of the group she could observe the movements of each man present and it seemed everyone except perhaps Weston and William Fielding were wondering just what or who lay beyond the trees in every direction. It could very well be an ambush of some kind and that thought had Amorette's hand darting to where her pistol rested against her side. Her horse had sensed her uneasiness and began to jerk his own head around nervously.

Suddenly out of nowhere there was the sound of hooves against the thickly packed soil and from nowhere a much larger band of riders flanked them from behind. Instinctively Amorette pulled the brim of her hat lower to hide her face and as Oliver Norton looked back he caught the movement. As the group of decidedly older men cantered into line opposite them, Amorette saw Jerome Weston pull out his list again. His steward was ready and waiting with quill and ink. Amorette thought the sight quite rare when she considered that all of the other young men were either holding their pistol aloft or had their hand upon the hilt of their sword. It seemed to be an unspoken rule that these two groups should be wary of one another and Amorette could guess why.

Opposite them were some of the most powerful men in England who not only had gold and title, but experience. Amorette wagered they knew how to play the game far better than the younger men surrounding her. Amorette tried to keep her emotions in check as Sir John Fairfax tugged on the reins of his horse and it nudged forwards a few steps until he was within reaching distance of Weston's list. Wordlessly he took it and signed his own name. almost at once there was an outcry as his friends protested that he should not sign it.

"I will sign my friends," said Fairfax. "We come here to unite our fractions and make the best use of what England has to offer; and what's more, you will all sign too!"

Amorette didn't miss Weston's smirk. She watched him for a second or two as he looked on towards the older men. Why was Weston with her young peers instead of men who were certainly closer in age to him? None of this made any sense. Fairfax let his horse step backwards a little until he was able to hand the list to an outraged comrade and nodded solemnly to the man. Whispers could be heard amongst the older group even where Amorette and Buckingham sat at the rear. Fairfax's friends seemed none too pleased at all to be putting their name to such a scheme and Amorette saw the sense in that. How were they to know where that list would end up. At length though with some cajoling by Fairfax and Weston, most of the men agreed reluctantly to sign.

Fairfax leaned back in his saddle, a little relived now that the list was being passed from man to man. For a few moments there was only the gentle sound of whispers between neighbours before an astonished cry shattered the sound. Amorette jerked her head up sharply at the sound of Theodore Acland's refusal to sign the list and swallowed a lump in her throat. Acland was her father's closest friend, and if he was present then so was her father. From her vantage point Amorette could not see Acland and she turned menacing eyes on Buckingham. Just what on earth had he dragged her into?

Sure enough, soon Amorette heard her father's voice over the din that Acland was making. He too was refusing to sign. Not able to see them and gauge their reaction, Amorette blindly wondered if their refusal was caused by seeing her name on the list but as it was handed about Amorette noticed it was no longer one piece of parchment but many. Perhaps her father wouldn't see her name at all. It took a while for Fairfax to coax Lord Barclay and his friend Acland to sign, but when they did Amorette felt a sense of foreboding creeping upon her. If men like her father and Acland were involved along with Sir John Fairfax, then this was far more than any of the younger group had ever imagined.

"George, what the hell have you gotten us into? If my father sees me, this whole thing will be blown wide open!" Amorette hissed in his direction, not taking her eyes off where she thought her father's voice was coming from.

Buckingham shuffled closer to her. "How was I to know he was involved. None of us except perhaps Weston and Fielding knew!"

Amorette wrung her horses reins in her hand tightly, trying to fight the urge to turn her horse around and canter away. "Fielding is your brother in law George! Frankly I think you should have done your research better. You should have found out all of this relevant information beforehand!"

Their whispered argument had attracted the attention of Oliver Norton who moved back a few paces so that his horse came up upon Amorette's other side. His knee gently knocked against hers by accident as he moved in closer. "Am I to gather Madam," he whispered almost silently, "That you and your father are still not on good terms?"

"We never were on good terms," Amorette growled. Fairfax began to address everyone in the clearing then, thus putting their argument to rest.

"I should like to thank Weston for assembling this motley band of young whippersnappers to readily do our bidding, and to all of you for accepting his invitation. You have all been plucked from English society as we believe you are the best; and most trustworthy for the job. I know that some of you may still he doubting what we are trying to build and question whether it's the right thing to do. I understand why you should have such feelings. What you have been tasked with doing is dangerous and meticulous. I'll be forever in your gratitude for the aid this will give to our final arrangements. I will not bore you with the details, as I'm sure Weston and Fielding will have done so already but I hope you all know we will expect nothing but the highest standard of diplomacy whilst in France. You must remember that though you may be alone on your travels, you represent our group as a whole and one small slip up could cost us dearly. You cannot yet know how valuable you will be to our end goal."

"What exactly is their end goal?" Oliver Norton hissed a little too loudly and several of the men surrounding them heard and turned to glance at him. Amorette noticed that they all shared a look of agreement. The younger men weren't too happy to be pandering to Fairfax's needs.

If Fairfax sensed the ripple of uneasiness flowing through the younger ranks, he didn't show it. "There will come a time for further in-depth explanations once everything has been finalised, but for now and for the coming months let us concentrate on gathering the information that we need. We will not know all of the players of the game until then. Once again my friends, I'd like to thank you all for the support and loyalty. It will be many months before we are all together again so I'd advise you to take note of where my peers will be staying. Whilst you all may be young and bright with quick minds and even quicker swords and pistols, the more experienced of us will be the ones to lead the way with the final arrangements. Aligning yourselves with one of us would be of great benefit to each of you."

Amorette caught her first glimpse of her father and Acland as Fairfax finished speaking. Her father looked tired and weary, which Amorette supposed she must put down to a lengthy travel from England. There was an air of uncertainty about him though, almost as if he wanted to be somewhere else. Acland looked as he always had done, with an unreadable frown gracing his brow and a grim determination in his eyes. Strangely, her father's friend seemed more frightening to her in that moment. Acland was a fearsome underground power in England, slithering his way into each noble house to hiss intrigues into the ears of important men. Amorette had not known his capability as a child and had merely thought him a friend of her fathers, but now she knew just how dangerous he was.

Drawing her attention back to her group of young men, Amorette immediately sensed a discord. Buckingham was all but ready for escape as his eyes darted about the clearing anxiously. They were arguing amongst themselves now about whether to continue. Amorette knew that after Fairfax's speech they probably felt like some sort of backup plan, the rear guard. That wasn't what these boys of summer had anticipated. They wanted to be in the thick of things and here men twice their age were ripping their limelight right from underneath them.

"You think that all we are here for is payment?" queried the ever observing James Hamilton.

Fairfax seemed surprised that the young men were going to actively question his motives. "No! No I do not think that for one second. I believe that we are all here because we love our King and our country and wish to return what is rightfully ours!"

The young men did not find the answer to their liking. "Looks like we've been duped gentlemen!" cried Nicholas Davies. "Once we've presented our information to these old crones they will ship us off back home and take all the glory for themselves!"

"That is not the case!" Jerome Weston threw himself into the thick of the argumentative young men. "We all want the same resolution don't we? We simply must make the best use of our resources."

"Resources?" Barty was astonished. "Come on Weston, we are all far more than that. If anything we are the more able group of the two! This is a new age and Queen Elizabeth's little circle are past their prime! She's long dead for crying out loud-"

William Fielding interrupted Barty with a sweep of his hand. "Now Barty, let's not offend everyone before you've gotten to know them. Weston is right, we are all here for the same reasons. We all must try to find a way to work together. I promise my friends, that each and every one of you will be rewarded handsomely for his actions and not just with money!"

No matter how fielding and Weston tried to settle the dispute, it was to no avail. Within a matter of minutes both groups had surged forward and were arguing with one another. Amorette and Buckingham were forced to move along with the line of men and found themselves stuck with no way out. Just like that a melee of mistrust and jealousy broke out, with John Stanley fighting with his own father from the opposing group. Amorette felt a sick, nervous kind of dread wash over her. This was not right at all. There was no way she was mixing with this any further. She wasn't surprised when the Stanley father and son had pulled pistols upon one another. No one even tried to break up their heated argument and Amorette realised she would have to. She glanced around quickly for Buckingham but Oliver Norton had drawn him into some heated debate with Marcus D'Arcy. Surging forward into the middle, Amorette made a grab for John Stanley's arm but just as she did so, a shot rang out through the clearing. Amorette immediately glanced around her to find that the Stanleys' guns did not smoke and neither of them had been shot.

There was silence as the vibrations of the shot rang out, the only sound heard for a few seconds was the squawking of the bids that left their tree branches after the upset of the shot. There was just a hint of animosity in the air and it was enough to renew the arguments of a moment before. Now, both parties thought that the other had shot at them. It took only a few seconds of uncertainty before everyone had cocked their pistols and drawn their swords. Immediately Amorette forgot the Stanley argument and turned around in her saddle, glancing fearfully around for Buckingham. The press of horses and bodies meant that although she could see her friend, there was no way to get to him. Amorette was forced to draw her own pistol, using it to bat away the flailing arms of punches aimed badly as she tried to make her way through the crush. She managed to get to Weston's side, but he was nursing a bad gash above his left eye. Clutching it and trying to encourage his horse to get away all at the same time, men were paying him no heed as they continued to argue and fight. Amorette followed Weston as his horse backed away a little, suddenly brought up short as a hand grabbed a fistful of her cloak.

"What in devil's name-" snarled her father as with the other hand he tipped the brim of her hat up a little.

Confusion marred his features as he stared at her but Amorette didn't have time for a family reunion. Buckingham was close by her now.

"George!" she cried as she shook off her father's hand and pushed another's arm out of her way. "George we need to get out of here!"

Buckingham turned to her then, looking as if he had forgotten her in that moment. "I can't leave my sister's husband to this skirmish! If so much of a hair on his head is damaged my sister will have my head! You go!" Amorette rolled her eyes in annoyance of her friend's overwhelming loyalty and despite her fear and trepidation she moved closer to him, grabbing onto his arm as he swung the butt of his pistol into a man's face. "Amorette this is going to get ugly before it gets any better," her friend cried. "Get out of here now and get yourself away!"

Another shot flew overhead and Amorette suddenly looked up and saw a shadow just visible amongst the branches of one of the trees. "It's an ambush!" she cried hastily. No one listened. "It's an ambush! The shots were fired from the trees! It wasn't any of us that shot, it's an ambush!"

No one paid any heed to Amorette's words and Buckingham swung around towards Lord Barclay. Seeming to know her father's cowardly tendencies he played upon them. "Look to your daughter for God's sake man! Take her away from here!"

A strange glance passed between Buckingham and her father that Amorette didn't quite understand before Lord Barclay grabbed Amorette's horse's reins to lead her away. "No, George! I'm staying with you!"

Amorette didn't have much choice. As much as she protested, her horse was only too happy to be led back out of the throng. Just as she lost sight of Buckingham in the crowd an all too familiar voice rang out near Amorette's right ear. "We should scatter! There's shots being fired from beyond the trees! We're found out!"

Gasping, Amorette turned towards the source of the voice and stared into the face of Lyall Fitzgerald. Henry's older brother glared back, just as surprised to see her as she was him. What on earth was a Scotsman doing embroiling himself in all of this? That mattered not in the moments to come though. It seemed Lyall's booming Scots accent drew more attention and others realised where some of the shots were coming from. Amorette felt a pang of worry as they passed Robert Grey, his left forearm producing copious amounts of blood from a musket ball shaped hole. Weston sprang from nowhere to flank Amorette's side as her horse let itself be dragged away by her father.

Every man was scattering now, the shots from the trees ringing out more fiercely. Amorette didn't even realise she was holding her breath until a sharp stinging sensation erupted from her neck and something whooshing past her face had her gasping. She clutched the back of her neck just below her ear where a musket ball had grazed her skin. She didn't have time to worry over such a small wound and followed her father more willingly as he tried to lead them into the trees.

No one spoke for a long time. They were on the road back towards Amorette's home in Provins. A little further back down the road they had still been able to hear the shouts and shots but now all had fallen silent. Weston was still mopping blood from the gash above his eye and her father seemed relatively unscathed apart from a small scratch where a branch had torn a hole in his clothes. They were all still panting breathlessly, well aware that they may have just encountered a lucky escape. Amorette's stomach was in knots for Buckingham and perhaps even for Oliver Norton but her two present companions seemed relatively content with their own safety.

They stayed hidden within the trees for some time, only surfacing onto the road completely once they had gone in circles a few times to ensure that they weren't followed. After such a hectic morning, the simple distractions of nature seemed alien to Amorette. She let the sounds of the crickets in a nearby tree sooth her as she closed her eyes. At length they arrived back at her home, and she was shocked even at the time to find that she did not worry so much about admitting her father to her home. He stood at a basin of water in her kitchen and patted his sweating brow and neck with a damp cloth whilst Amorette took another bowl of water towards where Jerome Weston sat slumped at her worn old table. He seemed exhausted by the ride, but there was no way Amorette was going to stall. She wanted them in her home no longer than necessary in case anyone called to visit. There was a slight sense of trepidation about her as she held the damp cloth to Weston's head wound now that she knew just what the man was capable of, but she couldn't let her guard slip even slightly to show her animosity so she carried on.

The wound was in fact only a small gash and of no real consequence. Amorette let them have one small glass of wine before she began to usher them on their way. She lifted Weston's doublet from the table and as he accepted her help and turned away to slip his arms into the sleeve, Amorette let her hand delve into the inside pocket to retrieve the list he had taken back from Sir John Fairfax. When his doublet was upon his shoulders again Weston turned to offer his thanks to Amorette, but it wasn't he who captured her attention. There was a strange glint in her father's eye that had her worrying that he may have seen her take the folded pieces of parchment, but if he had indeed seen her he made no comment of it. Instead he turned and left the room.

Outside in the sunlight, Amorette and Weston waited impatiently for Lord Barclay to bring the horses around. She was insisting that they leave by the back roads that led out into open countryside. If they went any other way they risked being seen when they travelled through the local town. Amorette still felt a little shaky, and Weston seemed to notice it as she brought a hand up to push a way a stray lock of hair.

Amorette nearly squawked in shock when Weston grabbed the hand in his own and squeezed. "You know Madam; I did not think you had it in you. I know your friendship with the Queen is somewhat estranged now but I did not think that I'd ever see you act so rashly against France. I'm quite pleasantly surprised I must say. I do hope though that your father's involvement will not put you off."

Amorette tried to smile sweetly as she gently pulled her hand from his grip. "I'm not sure that I know what to make of my father's involvement," Amorette muttered truthfully. "But I'm ready to take a stand against those who seek to run this land as if it were just a few coins of gold to pass about." She didn't know whether he saw the hidden meaning in her words but there was no time to reflect upon it as her father was returning with the horses.

"I still don't like leaving so early!" her father grumbled. "I think it would be safer to wait it out a while here and then move off."

"No it wouldn't." Amorette stroked Weston's horse gently as he mounted it. "If you stayed here you'd be trapping yourself. Whoever was shooting at us from those trees will be on the lookout for you all. Leaving now whilst everyone else still runs amok in the woodland will heighten your chances of going unnoticed. Staying here would make you sitting ducks and drag me into the bargain as well. Where will you go?"

Weston was ready to leave as he said," I'm headed to Paris."

"Back the way we came for a while, and then on further south." Lord Percy Barclay nodded to Weston. Amorette's hand still gently caressed the horse's face and Weston grabbed her hand and squeezed it again. This time though, he bent over her hand and kissed it gently before dropping it. Then he urged his horse into a canter and disappeared within the trees at the end of the lawn.

Behind her, her father snorted with incredulous laughter. "What?" Amorette snarled as she turned back to him.

"Nothing…" he said with a sigh. A knowing smile graced his features though. "A good idea it was of yours; for us to go separately. It seems you have all of the bright ideas nowadays. That's why I was so surprised to find you in that throng today."

"Ten minutes between you both should put enough distance between you," she said with an icy tone. She did not want a familiar and friendly conversation with her father.

"Did Buckingham drag you into it? Or was it the lure of the ever so handsome English Ambassador?" Her father chuckled lightly as he sensed her irritation.

"If you must know, if had nothing to do with either of them. I simply wanted to try and stop those young men from throwing their lives away on a fool's errand."

Her father nodded solemnly. "Then we are in agreement on something at least. I do not agree with any of it either!" Shocked, Amorette turned to stare at her father and saw the strangest thing there; truth. "Acland asked me to involve myself and I wanted to refuse but with a letter coming almost daily from one or other of the men pleading with me, I felt I had no choice. To continue to move within certain circles I had to come along for the ride, but I have tried to dissuade as many as possible from acting. It won't work though and I think you and I are better off parking our involvement right here. I'll be involved no longer after that skirmish today." For a few minutes they were silent, both feeling an odd sort of sentiment that only comes about with a mixture of hatred and agreement together. "I do feel I should warn you about that Weston though. He has his fingers in even more pies than I do!"

Amorette rolled her eyes again. "And just like that you're back to your normal self, Father."

"I'm serious girl! He wants a wife, and from what I can see he has interest in you! In fact, from what I can see he'll have you wedded and bedded in no time!"

Amorette let out in indiscernible snarl as she turned on her father, pulling her pistol out as she did so. "Speak to me in that manner again and there will be a musket ball shaped hole between your eyes!" she roared. Her father may have been a little taken aback at his daughter's outburst but she didn't realise. Amorette patted his horse gently. "You should go now. Enough time has passed."

With that Amorette turned away. Her father mounted his horse and cantered off towards the woodland. Amorette was certain he would be smirking to himself as he went, knowing that he had irritated her once again before he left.

 _ **So Amorette made it out of that fight alright but what about Buckingham? Amorette may think she's ending her involvement, but there's still a quite creepy Weston around the corner!**_


	38. Chapter 38

_**Chapter 38?! Even I'm starting to feel like this story is never ending! Thanks for the reviews as ever! We're coming extremely close to Amorette and Athos actually sorting themselves out!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

It felt like an age that he spent watching her from the bend in the road. He had been about to make his presence known and carry on up the road towards the house, but the sight of her stopped him. She was standing in the doorway, seemingly breathing in the fresh air. Her dark hair billowed a little in the breeze as she closed her eyes and let the late afternoon sunshine warm her eyelids. She turned on her side and leaned her back against the door frame, her legs stretching out a little in the tight brown breeches that she wore. He sucked in a breath warily. She wore nothing but the breeches, boots and a silk shirt that shimmered a little in the sunlight. With the shirt still tucked tightly in he could see every curve of her body from his vantage point. She leaned her head back on the door-frame and closed her eyes, completely unaware that he was watching her.

What would she think or say if she knew how he felt about her in that moment? He had always thought her uncommonly pretty, especially as a child but now there was something entirely different about her. He could be in no doubt of her beauty as he watched her. He watched the pale skin of her neck stretching as she moved her head from side to side and something within him decided that this simple moment and her nondescript movements were one of the most sensual things he had ever seen. She imposed upon no one, and never projected herself in a lascivious manner. That was why in that moment, her beauty became paramount to him. There was nothing about her that would ever betray him, or anyone else for that matter.

He continued to stare for far longer than he would ever know. If she were not still supporting her weight on her legs he might have thought she had fallen asleep where she stood. Her movements suggested tiredness, but he was too far away to really tell if the exhaustion showed on her face. Her breathing was calm though. He could just make out the rise and fall of her chest, loose strands of her long hair slipping into the opening of her shirt as she lifted up an arm to stretch out.

Suddenly she reacted, jerking away from the doorframe to face the inside of the house as he supposed someone must be speaking to her. Just like that, Athos' moment of reflection was lost to him. Then slowly she vanished from the doorway. She must have left the house from the rear because a few moments later she appeared at the side by the stables, leading a horse that was not her own. Buckingham appeared a few seconds later, bedraggled and worn out. He looked as if he had been riding for hours in a hurry. Amorette led the horse to a water trough and let it drink.

"Marcus D'Arcy is dead. He was shot twice," murmured Buckingham as he ran a hand along the back of his neck. His hand came away drenched in sweat.

Amorette placed a hand over her mouth in shock. She did not know Marcus D'Arcy at all, only from a portrait she had seen a few years ago. It still saddened her that the day had ended so sorrowfully. "Do you know who shot him George?"

Buckingham shook his head wearily. "It was one of us though. The shots were fired at close range and went right through him. Whoever that was in the trees, they didn't shoot directly at anyone."

There was silence as Amorette watched the horse drinking. "Will you stay for dinner George?"

At once he shook his head. "No, I could have been followed; although I'm almost sure I wasn't. If I was though I don't want to bring them here to you. I'll get back on the road and stay somewhere nearby for the night. I'll set off for Paris in the morning. Weston and your father got away?"

Amorette nodded. "I think my father thought he might have been invited to stay had the circumstances been any different."

Buckingham chuckled. "I think Weston might have too."

Amorette threw him a curious look as she led his horse towards a stall where food and water were laid out. Leading her own horse back out into the sunlight she observed her exhausted friend. "You should take my horse back to Paris with you and give yours some rest. I'll return yours to you when I return to the city myself." Buckingham nodded in agreement. "George, what did you mean just then about Weston?"

Buckingham let a heavy sigh escape him as he lifted his heavy saddle onto the horses back. "Only that he has mentioned you to some people at court. He thinks very highly of you; but I'll let you decide whether that's a good or bad thing."

Buckingham's eyes sparkled with mirth and Amorette couldn't help laughing at him. "Yes I think I rather got the measure of Jerome Weston completely wrong, didn't I?"

With a gentle hand on her shoulder Buckingham said, "Well it wouldn't be the first time you've thought far better of someone than they deserved! You're too trusting for your own good!"

"Talking of thinking better of people," said Amorette as she recalled the thing she had told herself to mention to her friend. "I did not know that Lyall Fitzgerald was amongst the conspirators."

Buckingham stared at her sharply. "I didn't either, are you sure it was him Amorette?"

"George he spoke, and it was his voice. That's how I realised it was him. I turned and there he was shouting! It was him. The question is, what was a Scotsman doing amongst that melee? What have you dragged us into George?"

Buckingham shook his head warily and ran a hand through his black hair. "I have no idea. I suppose I should try and make contact and find out though." Amorette turned suddenly towards the back of the house, a slight movement in the line of trees drawing her attention. "What is it?" Buckingham asked as he followed her eye line.

"You need to go, now George!" Amorette patted the horse gently before stepping away.

Buckingham was still staring into the trees. "I'm not leaving you here when there's someone out there!" he cried.

"That is precisely why you need to go!" Amorette yelled as she pulled her pistol out. She nodded at her conflicted friend, trying to display an air of confidence that she knew deep down that she didn't have. "Go George!"

He nodded at her, knowing that she wanted him to leave and galloped towards the road that lead away from the front of the house. Amorette turned her gaze back upon the treeline, her breathing catching in her throat as her hand shook a little. For the first time in a long time, she had felt warm again that day but the fear that gripped her in the last few seconds washed it all away so that she shivered where she stood. The feeling was gone as soon as it had come though. Suddenly worn out, she lowered her pistol.

"You can come out now, Treville."

The musketeer captain emerged sheepishly from the trees and Amorette felt the beginnings of fury begin to bubble in the pit of her stomach. She stormed towards the back of the house and into the kitchen where it was only just visible that daylight was beginning to fade a little. The room was darker than it had been moments before when Buckingham had arrived at the door. Treville followed and Amorette couldn't help turning to glare at him. "So I'm guessing that your presence means you don't trust me at all captain?"

"That could not be further from the truth Madam." He moved further into the room as Amorette leaned against the counter behind her. "I was here so that I could ensure your safety."

Amorette rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that day. She was exhausted and the last thing she wanted was another argument with Athos before she could reach her bed. "Did you come alone, or is Athos waiting to pounce with some more smart answers? If he is, tell him not to bother. I know he likes a good argument with me but I haven't the energy or the care for it today."

"I'm alone here. That is, I sent Athos and the others after Weston. Someone needed to tail him and having Athos watch over you was out of the question. It would have conflicted his interests."

Amorette laughed sourly. "So you told him then; about all of this?"

"On the contrary, I did no such thing," commented Treville. "I wasn't happy about all of this but even I saw the benefits of it were it to go ahead. Athos wouldn't have seen it that way. Like I said, a conflict of interests. He wouldn't have performed as he should have done had he known you were involved."

A sudden thought occurred to Amorette. "Are you sure he didn't know I would be at that meeting earlier?"

"Yes," Treville confirmed. "Why?"

"Because when we met the second contingent it didn't go so well. Shots were fired and at first we thought it was some of the Englishmen, but the shots came from beyond the clearing."

Treville rubbed his forehead in confusion. "I expressly ordered them not to shoot under any circumstances. Athos certainly would not have done so if he knew that you were there Madam."

"They might not have had a choice," Amorette muttered. "Like I said, things weren't going so well. Sir John Stanley and his father looked as if they might kill each other. Perhaps your musketeers thought some shots would disperse the group. Instead it made matters worse. I'm assuming you heard Buckingham outside. Marcus D'Arcy is dead."

Treville nodded soberly. "I will investigate it."

Amorette almost laughed but remembered that a man had died. "Why bother? I don't know the man at all but he was a traitor. All of those other men will be named as traitors and punished. D'Arcy won't be put through that. Besides, Buckingham said he was shot at close range. That means one of his own killed him."

Tilda appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Would you like that bath now Madam?"

Amorette nodded tiredly. "I'll be up in a moment Tilda."

"And there's more riders at the front of the house, four of them." With a smirk Tilda skittered from the room.

Amorette groaned. "I take it that means the cavalry has arrived," Amorette said to Treville. "Well captain you may amuse your musketeers all you want down here."

By the time they left the kitchen and made it to the hallway, Athos was standing at the bottom of the stairs. Amorette didn't feel obliged to offer them any greeting as they wandered into her home so freely. Instead she said, "I take it your excuse will be that it's too dark now to travel back to Paris now and that you need to stay the night. Don't bother. I'll make rooms ready." With that she left all five of them in the hallway and rushed upstairs towards her own room.

When Amorette returned to the kitchen she found them all sitting around the table talking quietly. Seeing that as an excuse not to interrupt, Amorette ventured towards the pots and pans and began to cook. Eventually the smell of food relaxed the muscles of the five men at the table and they spread out a little, their serious conversation over for the time being. Amorette and Tilda chopped vegetables quietly in the corner, having a whispered conversation about Athos. Tilda seemed to take pleasure in how uncomfortable Amorette felt at his presence.

"Since when did I say that I was feeding all of you lot?" Amorette barked as she slapped Porthos' hand away from the food. "This is for Tilda and I."

"Don't even try that one," chortled the musketeer. "It smells too good, and there's far too much of it for two skinny things like you!" Amorette simply stared stoically at him for a moment and she saw his face smile droop in doubt. "You are gonna feed us aren't you?"

Amorette laughed. "Heaven forbid you should miss one meal," she cried even as she spooned some food onto a plate and handed it to him. The others soon followed him towards the fireplace to fetch their meal. Athos came last and Amorette felt his eyes on her back even before she turned towards him. After her bath she hadn't the energy to force herself into a corset for a few hours so she had thrown on a simple skirt with a frilly shirt that was so large the neckline exposed most of one of her shoulders. Now though, she regretted such a clothing choice with Athos in such close proximity. Her first thought flew to a shall draped over a stool nearby. Turning, Amorette grabbed it and threw it over her shoulders and tied it at the front. He threw her a quizzical glance as he approached.

Athos had deposed of his own outer layers so that he too was only in breeches and shirt. Tugging on the corner of the shall he whispered, "What's this in aid of? You can't seriously be cold so close to the fire?"

Amorette gave no answer and instead she handed him a plate of food. He seemed to take the hint and wandered back to the table. They all ate around the table together without much precedence. Amorette stayed silent and focused her attentions on Porthos as he good humouredly teased Tilda across the table. Not once did her gaze stray to her left where Athos sat. It was easy to ignore him when there was so much conversation around the table. She cleared the table quickly once she had finished and began to tidy things away. Porthos was still teasing Tilda lightly, and D'artagnan and Aramis tried to insist that Amorette sit again so they could clean up but she refused the offer gently. She couldn't just sit around idly in Athos' company; she needed to do something with her hands.

At length Porthos managed to lure everyone else out onto the lawn at the back of the house to watch the sunset and Amorette breathed a sigh of relief. She poured herself another glass of wine and stood, staring at the red liquid for a while before she realised the heat of the fire would ruin it if she didn't drink it quickly. As she took her first sip one lone footstep behind her resounded throughout the room.

"Amorette?" She had not realised he had been behind her the whole time. "Amorette why won't you look at me?"

She grimaced. She had no option but to turn towards him. They stood only a yard apart in the small kitchen and Amorette stared into his eyes determinedly. "Did you want something Athos?"

"I simply wanted to enquire Madam whether you were paid any visits by Englishmen today?"

Amorette forced her eyebrows to knit together in feigned confusion. "Buckingham stopped by and changed horses. He'd been quite the distance so it seemed only fair to give his horse some rest."

"Did he stay long? Was there anyone else with him?" Athos took a step closer to Amorette as he spoke and something about the way the cobalt blue eyes stared into her own made her sure that he suspected something.

"Why all these questions Athos? He came to change horses, ALONE!"

Amorette turned around again in annoyance and began to scrape the remaining food from the large copper pot on the counter. "Did you venture out today Madam? It's just that I saw you earlier, in the doorway. You were dressed in what can only be described as riding attire."

Amorette whipped around towards Athos again, furious that he had been spying on her. "So what if I went for a horse ride to clear my head?" he stepped closer again so that they were almost nose to nose.

"I simply wondered why you were dressed in such a way," he mumbled.

Amorette thought of a reply in her head and with a smirk she dared herself to say it. "Why, did you like what you saw?"

Remarkably, Amorette saw an undeniable smirk grace Athos' face for a few seconds before it vanished again. He stepped back from her a little and crossed his arms across his chest. "Don't fret, I only ask because we were sent out this way to tail Jerome Weston and I thought he might have come this way."

"I really don't know why all of you can't leave well enough alone. I told you if I could manage to get myself an invite to one of those dinner parties, I'd get you that letter. You didn't have to come all the way out here to investigate it yourself!"

Athos sighed heavily. "It was not my idea. Treville had us come out here in pursuit of Weston. He's growing a little obsessed with snaring him if I'm honest."

"Then why was Treville following me?" Amorette demanded.

"That's for you to answer Madam!" The stern look was back. "Be honest with me, did Weston come here today? Or any other Englishmen?"

Amorette grabbed the handle of the copper pan and launched it across the room in frustration before she even realised what she was doing. She didn't like lying to Athos or keeping things from him but in this matter she had no choice. She knew anger radiated from her as he took a step backwards from her. Throwing her hair over her shoulder onto her back, Amorette turned to storm away from him towards the table, noticing as she did so that everyone else had returned to the house at the sound of the copper pan hitting the wall.

Treville wore a worried frown, Tilda was smirking and the three musketeers stared at them in bemused curiosity. "Oh for God's sake, why does everything in my life seem to require an audience nowadays-"

"What's that on your neck?" Athos interrupted her.

Immediately Amorette's eyes flew to Treville's as she realised her mistake in exposing her neck. Letting her hair swing around her neck as she turned back to face Athos, she shook her head. "There's nothing on my neck."

Before Amorette even had a chance to think about running for the door Athos reached for her arm and pulled her towards him. With a gentle swift flick of his wrist her hair was pushed away from her neck to reveal the graze. It was only a skin graze that did not really hurt very much at all now that it had been cleaned, but Amorette saw in Athos' eyes that he knew exactly what it was. "That was made by a musket ball," he murmured as his fingers fell to rest just below the graze. Amorette snapped her arm out of his grip and stepped back. "Madam, just where did your afternoon ride take you?"

Amorette let her eyes fall closed for a second as she admitted defeat in her head. She hadn't expected Athos to poke holes so quickly and for that she was a fool. He had some strange sort of unique ability to tell when she was keeping something from him. Treville spoke then, trying to diffuse the tension in the room. "Why don't we all sit at the table and discuss this like the adults that we are instead of squabbling like children?"

"I think that's an excellent idea," murmured Aramis. Porthos and D'artagnan sat down immediately, whilst Athos glared at Amorette for a little while longer before he too pulled out a seat. Treville followed him and Aramis glanced at Amorette. "Do you want me to take a look at that wound Madam?"

"For goodness sake," cried Amorette. "Stop fussing, it's just a graze."

"Just a graze?" Athos exclaimed. "You do realise that an inch higher and you'd be-"

"I'm well aware of where my head is; thank you," Amorette all but growled across the table at him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Tilda pick of the copper pan from the floor and replace it to the counter.

"Well come on then," D'artagnan muttered impatiently. "Tell us what all this is about Madam!"

Amorette glanced towards Treville, determined not to take the brunt of Athos' anger in this matter. "Captain, do you wish to start or shall I?"

Amorette lent back in her chair, satisfaction warming her a little at the glare that Athos shot Treville. "You knew about this?" Athos leaned on the table, his fists held tightly to supress his anger.

"I did," Treville confirmed. "I tried to stop it. Madam Amorette also tried to refuse but the King asked her personally to involve herself in this matter. I was there, and know it was difficult to refuse his Majesty."

Before Athos could bark an answer back Amorette drew his attention from the musketeer captain. Quietly she told them everything from Buckingham asking for her help to implanting herself within the thick of the conspirators. Amorette found they were not as shocked as expected. They knew that she was capable of far more than she presented outwardly due to her employment within the Queen's flying squad, so all that she really noticed in the faces of Aramis, Porthos and D'artagnan was carefully hidden admiration. Athos though, still looked furious. He didn't speak for a long time after Amorette had finished talking. He let Porthos and D'artagnan ask all of the questions with good humour and resigned himself to throwing Treville annoyed glances every so often.

What upset him most was being kept in the dark again. What was it about him that made Amorette want to keep things from him? Surely she had to know that she could trust him now after everything that had happened. Lost in his thoughts, he only returned to the conversation when Amorette made an early retreat to bed and Tilda followed her. He barely had time to utter a goodnight before the kitchen door closed behind them.

Hours later, he heard footsteps outside his door as he lay in the darkness and sat up. They were so light that it had to be one of the women. Curiosity getting the better of him Athos got out of bed and dressed without lighting a candle and crept downstairs. When he reached the hallway he saw flickering candlelight reflecting on the polished floor coming from the dining room. Pushing the door ajar he found Amorette in a chair at the dining table, but everything was still covered in dust sheets.

When she spoke it was in a slightly raspy tone, almost as if she had been crying. "This house was built for a family. Within these walls there should have been life and laughter, parties and celebrations."

"It could still be witness to all of those things," he said as he pulled out a chair and tore off the dust sheet. When he was seated he turned to look at her, conscious of the fact she still had not looked at him yet. There were no tear tracks on her cheeks, but he supposed she might have been crying earlier on. "You have many friends, and a rather large extended family. All you would have to do is let people in I suppose."

"That's easier said than done. I had a quiet and peaceful life here. There's something about this house; I don't know what it is but it almost makes me push people away when I'm here. Perhaps it has something to do with my mother's energy. That was what she did for so many years. I don't want to be like her, but at the same time I can't face opening the doors somehow."

Athos leaned against the table and turned so that he had a better view of her face. "You are not your mother. This house does not carry the same meaning for you as it did her. I know that better than anyone. You simply have to decide what is most important to you right now in your life and let the right people in."

Amorette smiled gently then as a thought crossed her mind. "Athos I'm not that girl you came across here three years ago. She's still a part of me but I'm changing. If I'm honest and think of what's important to me right now and how to act upon it, I should probably sell this house and purchase a town house in Paris. In reality there is nothing here for me except memories. I can take the paintings from the walls and my mother's jewellery and load it on a cart, take it to Paris and fill a town house with it all."

Athos steepled his hands in front of his face, relaxing into the chair slightly. "Then why don't you?"

"Don't I owe it to my mother; and to myself to try to make something of the house though? I had thought when I was married that it would be a wonderful place to bring up children but that whole concept is entirely foreign again."

Athos sighed before saying exactly what he did not want to say. "You could marry again."

Amorette let out a little chuckle. "No, I don't think I shall. Marriage wasn't something I had considered until I met Fabien. It's something I'm considering even less now than I was before."

Athos didn't think he understood that explanation, but he didn't press the subject. "Then you have a choice to make. Although I do not think you will have it within you to sell your mother's house."

Amorette turned to him for the first time. "You don't think I'm strong enough to do it?"

He stood then, suddenly aware that the answer he gave was an important one. He didn't want to be looking at her when he said the words, for he didn't think he'd be able to just walk away from her in that moment. She didn't seem ready for that though, even if she were to look at him longingly. "No Madam. Quite the contrary. I believe that it would take more strength to keep the house and bring it back to life again. I believe that you have that strength within you just waiting to emerge and you know deep down inside you that you have the strength too. Strength of character is something you have always had and will never lose."

With that, he took the stairs two at a time away from the dining room despite desperately wanting to turn back around and rush back to her. He knew the look that would have befallen her face when he said those words; that lost and considerate look that told everyone she didn't really know just how wonderful she was. He would not have been able to walk away. He would have taken her in his arms and kissed her instantly.

When Athos woke the next morning in a rather comfortable bed he did not appreciate the aspect of the room or its pleasant décor. His mind immediately flew to the woman residing elsewhere within the house. He moved to the window as he pulled his shirt over his head and saw Amorette hanging linens blow him on the lawn.

When he reached the kitchen, he found Tilda working away quietly. She threw him a warm smile and gestured towards the table where freshly baked bread lay. He stood for a moment and breathed in the irresistible smell of it before approaching the window. Watching Amorette, he asked "How long as she been up and about?"

Tilda smiled again as he turned to her. "When I woke and opened the shutters in my room, she was already dressed and down here baking the bread."

Athos gave her a murmur of thanks as he cut himself a slice of bread and wandered outside into the early morning sunlight. It was just as warm as it had been the day before but the shawl was firmly in place again around Amorette's shoulders. She was fully dressed today though, in a dowdy green dress that was far too big for her and was obviously years old. She didn't see him at first, only catching sight of him as she bent to pick her basket up. Placing the basket on her hip she offered him a small smile and he knew that she too was aware that the last time they had stood on that same spot three years ago they had argued.

"You've been baking?" he commented.

"Yes," she confirmed. "If you want some of the bread you'd best be quick. I'm sure your friends won't take very long to gobble it all up."

"I take it you didn't sleep well?" he muttered as she moved past him with the basket.

She spared him a confused frown. "Why would you say that?"

"Amorette you were up before dawn breaking bread!"

Amorette adjusted the basket on her hips. "It's only bread Athos for heaven's sake. The sun was bright in my room this morning. I forgot to close the shutters and the light woke me, that's all."

Athos grabbed the heavy basket from her before she could protest. "It's not the early rising I'm worried about. It's the baking and the cooking that gives cause for concern." Amorette gazed back at him, not sure where he was taking the conversation. "I was there the day you told me about your mother teaching you the beginnings of baking and cooking. You told me then that your mother taught you those things so that you had an occupation with which to try and channel your anger and frustration. You only cook when you are upset."

"Athos I lived alone in this house for eight long years and cooked and baked every day!" she exclaimed angrily.

"That is exactly my point," he said with a note of finality. "Seeing you revert back to what you were three years ago when you lived in this house frightens me a little. You were a little downtrodden then, I do not wish to see you so again."

Amorette let out a strange cry of frustration and had to force herself not to throw the basket like she had thrown the pan the night before. "Athos I am not downtrodden!"

"What's all this about then?" Athos gave the shawl a tug. "Are you trying to repel me with your old and worn clothes; because that will not work."

"Why on earth would I be trying to repel you?" Amorette dropped the basket at her feet and closed the distance between them until she could feel his breath on her face. "What on earth is there to try and fight against after all?"

Not sure why she had moved closer to him, Amorette knew she couldn't step back again or he would have won the argument. She simply stared at him for a few moments as her heart began to race. If he reached out to touch her she didn't think she could bare it in that moment. It was the way he was looking at her with so much pain and anguish that confirmed everything she thought. He pitied her, that was all.

He seemed to sense her thought process because he broke eye contact first and looked away. Amorette wasted no time in lifting her basket and storming back into the house. D'artagnan was at the table in the kitchen cutting himself some bread but Amorette barely glanced at him. She stormed into the parlour and the whole house felt the vibrations of the door slamming.

 _ **Marie is back in the next chapter, with some clues about who she might be!**_


	39. Chapter 39

_**I think there's a Fitzgerald quote that suits every story isn't there? This one perfectly suits Aramis' words of wisdom in this chapter! As promised, Marie is back, and we might be about to find out who she is!**_

 _ **P.S. I'm really excited for the next chapter! It's an important one ;)**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

" _There are all kinds of love in this world but never the same love twice."_

 _F. Scott Fitzgerald_

If Amorette had thought she would have been alone in the parlour, then she was very wrong. As soon as she slammed the door behind her she turned and caught sight of Aramis sitting on a couch thumbing through a book.

Without even looking up from the book he asked dryly, "Well, what was the argument about this time?"

"How did you know?" Amorette asked the marksman as she drew closer to him. In doing so she realised that what he in fact held was the book of Fabien's poetry that Amorette had helped publish.

"This is very good you know," he exclaimed as he finally closed the book over and placed it upon the arm of the couch. Amorette smiled her thanks, still waiting for his answer to her question. "How do I know when you and Athos are bickering again? Well it's actually quite simple really. You see you both have this intrinsic way of getting upon one another's nerves with barely any effort at all. You rushing in here to slam the door in an irritated mood leads me to the conclusion you've disagreed with someone. I don't think anyone else in the house could exert such a reaction from you apart from Athos."

Amorette wasn't sure she liked the idea of everyone being aware of what she was feeling so easily. Then she supposed it was in fact her fault. She simply had to learn to contain her emotions more. "It's so odd you know. After dinner last night he was furious with me, then later on when it was just the two of us we managed to have a civilised conversation and he actually said some very kind things. Then this morning we are back to our usual argumentative selves. It seems we can only ever find common ground and speak as the old friends that we are when we are completely alone together and have indulged in one or two glasses of wine."

Aramis was smiling openly. "Both of you seem to think you are so different to one another, but doesn't what you've just said dispute those thoughts. There are feelings between you that neither one of you will admit before anyone else so you both put up these defensive walls. That's why you get on each other's nerves so much. I suspect if you were to both have a real and succinct conversation where you told each other how you really felt, then you might notice a change."

Amorette narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean by how we really feel?"

Aramis sighed exasperatedly. "Madam I am not here to convince you that Athos has feelings for you other than friendship. I know that he does and I dare say Porthos, D'artagnan and perhaps even Treville may know too. You however must learn that for yourself. No matter who tells you, I think you will not believe it until you see for yourself how he feels for you."

Amorette sank onto the couch beside him dejectedly. "Aramis we work well as friends. Yes, I know we bicker, but doesn't everyone from time to time?"

Aramis snorted. "No! Constance and D'artagnan never argue. Their opinions may differ but they respect that about each other. No, you and Athos bicker because neither one of you wants to admit that the other may be right."

"Aramis, what if we did tell each other the truth and we argued more than ever? What if that's all that there really is for us? If being together would mean constant disagreements is there any point really? We fight like brother and sister as it is."

Aramis shook his head knowingly. "Brother and sister indeed! That may be the case, but what if it isn't? What if something much more magical were to happen? Isn't it worth the risk?"

Amorette suddenly remembered why she doubted Athos' feelings in the first place. "I don't think it is worth the risk Aramis. He cares for me as he would a sister. I think he gets confused sometimes because of the love that he had for my sister. Although it's not something that I readily admit to; I'm fully aware that there are certain traits and mannerisms within me and perhaps even a slight something in my appearance that gives him cause to remember my sister. I think that is what so conflicts him."

Aramis stared at her disbelievingly. Scratching his forehead, Amorette knew he was at a loss for what to say. Eventually he seemed to be able to knit his thoughts together and he leaned towards her a little. "Madam, Athos does have a care for you but it is not what you would expect him to feel for a sister. Just because the love he feels for you is not what he had for your sister Ann does not mean that it is not love. Heaven knows I've known many women in my time and whilst I admit that I did not love all of them, I cared about them all greatly. For those that I did love, I loved them individually and uniquely because they were all essentially different. You see, some people need more love than others and some need a lot more than just love. I think I've experienced many different kinds of love in my life and each time it felt different. Would you really want Athos to love you in the same way that he loved your sister? Or wouldn't you rather that he loved you for yourself?"

Amorette tore her eyes away from his face as she felt tears forming in her eyes. That was just it though, could Athos love her for herself? "We could go around in circles with this for years Aramis. Even if he were to love me for me, how am I to know what that is? How am I to recognise those feelings without questioning the intention behind them? I know my sister captured Athos' heart so readily and without any persuasion so how am I to suppose that the same will happen for me?"

Aramis sighed exasperatedly. "You see Madam I think we need to go back to what I said before. I thoroughly believe that your sister needed a lot more than just love from Athos. He gave her many things and I'm not just talking about material things like money and safety. A woman like Milady de Winter needed so much more. In truth I'm sure you are aware that your sister was incredibly self-indulgent and that was her biggest weakness. She strived to survive and she forgot about virtue and sensibility. She forgot what it was like to really care about anyone else. Athos didn't just have to love her, he had to project all of the things that he was respected for onto her. He may have thought he was saving her from the gutter. The thing is though, you can take the Mademoiselle out of the gutter, but you cannot take the gutter from the Mademoiselle. Ann wasn't able to love another person wholly and completely and this meant far much more work for Athos. Young men like a challenge though and she was certainly that. You are not your sister in any way Madam. You may share a mother and a unique shapely nose but that is where the comparison ends. You love openly and freely; have done all of your life. You have said yourself that you have loved Athos since you were five years old. You have vast numbers of friends and family who could not think higher of you because you are a good and kind person. You think of others before you ever consider yourself. You've shown your strength of character time and time again. You may doubt yourself in Athos' eyes, but you do not do so in terms of your friends. Trust me when I say that you are a different kind of love. Athos doesn't need to love you in a way that teaches you to care for others, in fact he needs to teach you to care for yourself a little more."

There it was again, that strength of character thing. Amorette didn't know what to say to Aramis apart from a whispered thank you.

"Besides," muttered the marksman as he stood to take his leave, "Would you really want him to love you as he did your sister? Wouldn't you want your own kind of love for yourself."

"They all signed in their own handwriting," Amorette said to Treville as she handed over the list in the tiny little library of the house that he had taken up residence in that morning. "And the letter is pretty self-explanatory."

"And just how much time do we have before Weston realises that the letter is missing?" Athos demanded from the corner of the room.

"What kind of a fool do you take me for?" she exclaimed. "It's a copy. I know the original would have been definitive evidence but he would have known that we were on to him pretty quickly if I'd taken it. I'm afraid you'll have to make do with my own handwriting until you have enough evidence to search his offices and seize the real thing."

"The thing is," muttered Treville with a scratch of his bearded chin, "Others may question the authenticity of the information contained within the copy. There are those who would claim that you added or left out bits whether intentionally or unintentionally Madam."

"I know that," sighed Amorette.

"So all we have is a list?" Athos stepped towards both of them out of the shadows. "Personally I think this has been a fool's errand."

Amorette whirled around to face him, well aware that another argument with the man surely wouldn't help matters but prepared to fight her corner none the less. "Do you know what I had to do to get that? Do you realise what I risked in taking so much time over that letter? If I'd been caught they wouldn't have hesitated to kill me! Surely the list is enough to begin with?"

Treville nodded to her. "The list and the copy of the letter only confirm what we feared. In fact, I think a search of Weston's own offices is in order in a few days' time once we have decided how we want to play things."

Amorette nodded soberly. "Well captain, you may call upon me if you need further help. As much as I'm not prepared to put myself in a situation again like the one I found myself in yesterday I do understand that something needs to be done."

Treville nodded as Athos scowled. "Madam I appreciate the offer and I will bare it in mind. I am not sure what course of action we will take in the coming days but if your help is required we will call upon you."

Amorette wasn't sure just how much truth had been in Treville's statement and suspected that he may have just tried to placate her, but she said no more on the subject. Within an hour of their discussion the musketeers made for Paris again, leaving Amorette and Tilda behind in Provins. Amorette met Porthos swift promises that her rooms had been checked and the peepholes covered in good humour but explained that she couldn't be seen arriving with four musketeers and their captain to the city again. There were too many foreign eyes roaming the countryside and so Amorette had decided to halt her travels for a day or two.

When Amorette did arrive back in Paris two days later, she didn't go straight to her own rooms at the Palace as would have been expected of her. Instead she forced herself to visit Marie. The young Spanish woman did not receive Amorette kindly, but she let her in none the less. Their friendship over the last few months had become tenuous. Amorette did feel guilty that after she had married Fabien she had thought very little of Marie and had neglected to visit her as much as she should have done.

 _I'm here now though_ , Amorette thought grimly as she was admitted into the small parlour and was surprised to find it empty of human life. Nearly almost every time she had visited Marie Captain Neville had been present and today he was conspicuously absent.

"Neville isn't here?" she asked her young friend.

"Why? Was it him you came to see?" Marie stiffly replied as she perched herself on the edge of a chaise. Her hair was gently braided and she wore a simple dress with no corset. It was clear that she had no intention of going anywhere any time soon.

"Don't be like that Marie," Amorette pleaded. "You know why I'm here."

"To beg me to stop hiding so that you can forget about me altogether? Tell me Amorette, did you even think of me once when you were off gallivanting around France with your husband?"

Amorette swallowed back a bitter retort and tried to retain her composure. "I know I haven't been a very good friend Marie, but I am not your minder. I've made it abundantly clear numerous times that I believe that you should have come out of hiding long before now. Me coming here so often whilst you still wish to hide is not good. There are those known to me that would give in to curiosity and follow me here. Your cover would be blown! Believe what you like but I'm trying my best to help you. Although I admit it would make things easier on all parts if you did decide to make yourself known. Think of Neville and of how he must make excuses to come to you every day! I'm sure someone will have found that curious. He risks a lot to spend time with you!"

"Without Neville-"

"Without Neville?" Amorette interrupted. "Yes let me tell you about your life had Neville not taken such a shine to you! You would have gone to her months ago! Instead you hide away here and claim you are not ready because you do not want to lose the company of your Red Guard captain! You cannot put your life on hold because you have feelings for him! Trust me when I say it; that is not good for you in any way."

Marie launched forward and grabbed Amorette's hand to squeeze it tightly. "Cometess you told me once that you knew how it felt to love someone so much that it was as if it consumed every fibre of your being! How can you tell me to give up one of my only true friends in this world without so much as a thought! What I thought was important to me when I first let you bring me to Paris is not really that integral anymore."

"Marie you know as well as I do that you did not let me bring you here. I didn't want to because of the dangers both to you and myself and Neville. You forced my hand in this. I did what you asked because I understood how you felt and I wanted to help you. Are you really going to throw away everything that Neville and I have done to keep you safe from harm? You must go to her soon and tell her everything!"

"Then I will lose my greatest ally," sighed Marie dejectedly and Amorette felt her anger dispel as she looked into the young girl's crestfallen face.

"You were right. I did tell you about real love being so all consuming that it almost burns you from the inside outwards. It can feel like it's all that matters in the world but the truth is that there is much more to life. There is family and friendship for starters, and then there's your dignity and integrity. Marie I hid myself away in the country for a long time and felt sorry for myself because I couldn't be with the man I loved. It was foolish of me! I should have gone out into the world and enjoyed my life! Don't you want to be your own person instead of just our secret?"

Marie pulled away from Amorette and gazed out of the window. "I can just see the roof of the Palace from here you know. I look for it each morning when I first come to this room. I know that you mean well Amorette, but am I ready for all of that? Can I do it alone?"

"You won't be alone Marie," Amorette whispered. "You will have me by your side all of the way. With your letters and my testimony there is no risk of her not believing you. You trusted me in Madrid. Trust me now. Go to her and tell her the truth. I know you don't want to lose Neville. You don't have to if you really don't want to. Go to the Queen and tell her the truth. Unburden me of this secret and set yourself free. If you do not wish to stay once you have done so I will do everything within my power to get you and Neville out of Paris, I promise you. But this isn't just about you anymore! She deserves to know the truth and I cannot keep your secret for much longer. How would it feel if you had to lie to Neville every day? Because that's what I'm doing! I'm lying to the man I love and to everyone I care about!"

Amorette turned away as she felt tears roll silently down her cheeks. "He's here in Paris?" Marie asked. "The man you love?" I thought that you said you lived separate lives?"

Amorette shook her head as more tears fell. "We do live separate lives and I thought for a time that everything I felt for him was gone but it isn't. All consuming, that's what I told you. That's true, but me trying to build partitions between our lives and to keep things from him is not helping the matter. I thought all of these secrets and my own memories of what I did alone would help to break things up a little. I thought I could put up barriers to protect myself but it's all coming crumbling down! The truth is that lying to him hurts me so much! I don't like keeping things from him like this because I know without any shadow of a doubt that I could trust him with anything and everything. By not telling him I feel like I am betraying his friendship."

Amorette really did break down then, a sob escaping her lips as she jumped up from the couch and paced the floor to try and steady her nerves. For a few minutes there was silence until Marie stepped tentatively forward and handed Amorette a handkerchief to dry her eyes. "I'm sorry Amorette. I didn't realise just how much pain I'd caused you in asking for your help. You should not have done so. You should have thrown me away long ago and gone to this man."

Amorette sniffed noisily and smiled at Marie through her tears. "Oh it's not your fault! It's as much mine as it is yours. I'm the issue when it comes to my own happiness. I keep pushing it away because I'm scared of what will happen if I let it consume me. I suppose I feel much the same as you do about your own predicament Marie. I will make you a deal. If you agree to go the Queen and tell her everything, then I will go to him. I'm not asking you to stay. I meant what I said, if you don't wish to stay in Paris I will help you get away but you must face who you are and tell your sister the truth."

Marie nodded soberly. "You're right Amorette. Of course you are, you always have been. I must sort things, my letters and the like. I'm not quite ready but I can be in a week or two. It's just that I'm not sure what I want yet, whether I want to stay or leave but I will think it over with great consideration."

Amorette nodded. Although she had her doubts about Marie ever being ready, at least the girl was able to put a time limit on things. "Well whatever you decide to do, I'll be behind you all the way. I would suggest that you tell Neville when he makes his next appearance. I'm sure he will want to help, and it wouldn't be fair to keep him in the dark."

Marie leaned forward and gathered Amorette into a sudden embrace. The two women held each other for a long moment, knowing that change was coming for both of them. "Amorette I want you to know that I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me," Marie whispered. "I know I behave like a petulant child at the best of times but that's because I'm frightened of the future. I'm starting to see it more clearly though. I know what I have to do now. Your courage shows me that I have to be brave too."

Amorette tidied herself as much as she could after her outburst before stepping outside into the early afternoon sunshine again. Marie watched her from the doorstep as Amorette pinned her hat back into her head. "When will you go to him?"

Amorette have a nervous smile. "Now I think; if I don't I might never go." She turned away from the river that flowed at the end of the street to stare at the jumble of chimneys and rooftops of Paris. Somewhere in the distance in that general direction was the musketeer garrison.

Marie pushed off the step into the street. "Do you want me to come with you Amorette?"

Amorette smiled her thanks at the girl. "No Marie. It's kind of you to offer but it's too risky. There is someone who I may meet along the way who would perhaps notice your resemblance to a certain Queen. I meant it when I said you looked alike. For now, it's best you remain out of sight. Anyway, this is something I need to do alone."

"Whilst I'm aware of the gravity of the situation Captain, I'm still not entirely sure why I wasn't informed about it all."

Treville shook his head for what felt like the hundredth time and carried on with his work. If Athos said something along those lines again to him he might just take something sharp and prod him with it. "Athos we have discussed this and I have explained numerous times that this was not something that I agreed with. The King asked something of the Cometess and she agreed to do it. She has no living husband to take responsibility for her so whatever we may think of the situation, the choice was hers. I did try to persuade her not to go along with it, as I've already said but there wasn't much more I could do."

"You could have told me," muttered Athos darkly. Turning in his chair a little he had to shield his eyes from the glare of the sun through the windows. He grimaced and turned back again into the room; his hangover not quite ready to face the warm summer's day that blazed outside. Bored and annoyed, he had disappeared the evening beforehand has he had done so many times to a tavern half-way across the city. Choosing one he had known that his friends would not find he had drank away the sorrows that now creeped upon him once again. Dealing with them whilst sluggish and ill was harder than he had thought it would be.

Treville stared at his musketeer knowingly. "Athos I didn't tell you with good reason. If you'd known what the Cometess was planning, you wouldn't have been able to keep away! I know you have a care for the girl, be it friendship or love of whatever form and your first thought would have been to protect her. That's why I charged you with tailing Weston whilst I watched the Cometess."

"We almost shot her!" Athos cried. "In fact someone did shoot her!"

"I told you that under no circumstances were you to give the order for anyone to shoot. Yes, I think that's what I said!" Treville ran a hand across tired eyes and glared at Athos before going back to his work before him.

Athos was silent for a while as he watched his captain scratch out a letter with quill and ink. Resting his elbows on his knees he lowered his chin to rest on top of his hands dejectedly. Groaning a little, he watched as Treville's eyes flicked towards him before returning to the parchment. "I just don't know how many more of her secrets I can take! How can I hope to help her or keep her from harm when she behaves so rashly?"

Treville smiled warily. "You just have to find a way. You know what her family is like for keeping secrets. Her sister was schooled well in that manner and that father of hers is as dangerous as they come. It's probably all that she knows, and I'm sure in her own way she's actually trying to protect you. She will keep you on your toes, so you must find a way. Much like you found a way two days ago. D'artagnan tried to cover for you but I know you separated from him and the others in those trees and went to her house. Perhaps you got there even before I did." When Athos tried to school his expression into one of confusion Treville simply glared at him. "Don't even think of lying Athos. I know you were there. You weren't able to resist."

Athos sighed in defeat. "I only separated after we had lost the trail of the English conspirators. I thought that as she was staying in the country I should check that she was alright, and warn her. When I saw Buckingham there though, I knew I needed to keep away. I guessed at that point that something was amiss but I knew with Buckingham there she was in no danger. None of us have a high regard for the scoundrel at all but I will readily admit that when it comes to Amorette, he's done right by her and continues to do so."

"You know Athos; you should have a little more faith in her. She's not a porcelain doll. Perhaps it's time for you to get used to the idea that the Cometess does what she wants. Besides, all of this takes your focus off your duties. Whatever it may be that lies between you both, leave it there until she is ready to speak of it herself. Forcing it upon her when she isn't ready will only widen the divide between you both and take your mind off other more important pressing matters, like Jerome Weston. If you'll go and fetch the others, I would talk to you all together once I have finished my work."

Athos nodded resolutely and left the room. For a few moments he stood in the peace and half-darkness of the corridor and listened to the sounds of clanking metal in the yard below. Closing his eyes, he tried to discern the difference between the thumping of a hammer upon a horse shoe and the clash of steel swords as two men sparred. When he emerged into the sunlight he was reminded how bad his hangover really was. Shielding his eyes, he glanced across the yard in search of his friends. Knowing there was no rush he watched two of the younger musketeers sparring below him for a few minutes as he tried to dispel the irritation and anger that he had felt for the last two and a half days. He would join the men below in a sparring match once he had spoken with Treville again and that would alleviate some of his frustration he was sure. Just as he spied Aramis leaving the stables, the source of his frustration walked readily into the yard.

Amorette saw him seconds before he turned and caught sight of her. Emerging from underneath the archway she glanced up towards the balcony and saw Athos. He looked tired and melancholy and Amorette supposed some of that was down to her. He was probably sick of the sight of her because they bickered so much when together. As she lifted her head to glance at him more closely he turned towards her. There was that unreadable frown again. With the brim of her hat shading her eyes from the sun, Amorette wasn't sure if it also hid the fact that she had been crying some ten minutes ago. She didn't really care though. She would cry all day long if she knew it would get her a few minutes alone with him to talk.

He took the steps two at a time to reach her in the yard and for a second Amorette's voice was lost to her. She managed a sheepish "Hello," as he gazed down at her curiously. She smiled gently at him and Athos opened his mouth to speak when a sharp shout from above ended their non-existent conversation.

"Cometess!" Treville called. "I would have a word with you if it pleases you." He glanced at Athos, "And you four."

"Do you know what this is about?" Athos asked Amorette as Aramis marched past them towards the steps.

"I haven't a clue," Amorette muttered as she threw a smile and Porthos and D'artagnan as they followed Aramis.

"Why did you come then, if you don't mind me asking Madam."

Amorette tried to supress her nervous grin. "Actually I came to speak with you, but it can wait."

Athos returned her grin then, almost as if he could read her mind and knew exactly what she wanted to say to him. "Can it really?"

"Athos we've waited rather a long time as it is, due to our own faults alone. I think a few more minutes won't really do much more damage. Let's get this over with first." Amorette moved to walk past him towards the steps but he grabbed her wrist.

"Are you alright?" So he had noticed that she had been crying.

"I'm fine Athos. We can talk later and I'll tell you all about it then."

 _ **(squirms with excitement) I think we may be about to come upon a very special moment between these two in the next chapter!**_


	40. Chapter 40

_**Chapter 40?! What the heck! Although they do say life begins at 40, and in the case of this chapter, that's certainly true. Thank you to dehn17517, Babs, Helensg and pallysdeeks for the reviews! Pallysdeeks, unfortunately that's not about to happen although it is a great idea (might steal it partially for a later chapter if that's alright)!**_

 _ **I'd just like to point out before you start that this chapter is ridiculously long! It's usually what I'd have split into two because I got carried away with myself again but I did promise a certain moment at the end of this chapter ;) That being said don't just skip the rest and go straight to the end even if you are tempted. This chapter is packed so there's other important stuff in here too.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

The musketeer captain's office was draped in warm summer sunlight and Amorette produced her fan and began to fan her face. Athos' hand gently brushed against hers as they entered the room last, the touch noticed by only Aramis. Not knowing how long this conversation would take, she decided to keep her hat on her head for the time being. The only remaining seat was a window seat to the right of Treville's desk. Amorette perched there, glad that Athos chose to remain standing even though there was more than enough room for him should he choose to sit beside her. Instead he chose to lean against the wall just to her left.

"I'm assuming that this is about Jerome Weston, Captain?" Amorette asked.

Treville nodded. "It is indeed Cometess. Unfortunately, the list you procured and the copy of the letter are not going to be enough to implement an investigation. To put it bluntly we have two choices at hand. Either we park this whole thing here and forget that it ever happened, or we must think of a way to build a better case against Weston. Obviously, I prefer the latter but there's no option of trying to secure punishment for the other men involved now. We must focus all of our attentions on Weston and hope that when he topples from grace he disrupts the status quo and frightens these Englishmen back into hiding."

"But what can we do?" D'artagnan asked. "We cannot search his office without good reason. After all, the King still thinks him trustworthy otherwise he would have been removed from office by now."

"Precisely," mused Treville as he rested his elbows on the desk in front of him and steepled his hands.

Amorette shrugged. "Why don't you just search his office when he isn't there and put everything back when you're done?"

Aramis chuckled dryly. "And let him walk in on us and blow the whole thing wide open Madam?"

Amorette shrugged again. "So you need a distraction. I'll do it if you like."

"I don't like that idea," muttered Athos from beside her. "You said there were mountains of paperwork there! What could you possibly do to keep him from his office for long enough?" A beat passed before Athos realised what he had said. "Actually, don't answer that question. No, we will have to think of something else."

"Like what?" Amorette demanded. I can't imagine anything that you lot could think of working better than me turning on the waterworks; he won't be able to resist comforting me."

Porthos raised his eyebrows curiously. "And why is that Madam?"

Amorette sighed. She had hoped to dodge this part of the conversation and had hoped they would simply assume Jerome Weston thought himself a father figure to her. "The truth is that he's wife-hunting."

"The English Ambassador is not about to pay open attentions to a French woman, he's too patriotic," announced Porthos.

Athos was already shaking his head. "He would perhaps consider a French woman who is half English though." He turned shrewd eyes upon her. "Is that what you are getting at? I'm sorry but I cannot imagine this working. Surely he will have his own business to occupy himself perfectly well? Your interruption may only irritate him."

A thought occurred to Amorette and she ever so gently began to lean forward as she took her hat off her head. She let her cloak fall back as she did so to reveal an expanse of chest and the low cut neckline of the dress that she wore. The movement went mostly unnoticed except for Athos beside her who stiffened a little where he stood. Trying not to smirk Amorette began to exaggerate her breathing ever so slightly so that the rise and fall of her chest increased, the swell of her breasts moving up and down rapidly. "Personally I think it's rather straightforward. Amorette leaned forward a little more and watched as Aramis grinned at her appreciatively. "As I said he's wife-hunting and whether I'm an option he would consider or not; He's still a red blooded male." Gently she glanced up towards Athos and found him stoically staring straight ahead. Ever the gentleman, he was profusely resisting to look in her general direction at all. Gently letting her hair swing around onto one shoulder so that he would smell her lavender perfume Amorette let out a carefully sounded sigh. She watched as Athos balled his hands into fists.

Glancing around the room gently, she noticed Treville was the only man not looking directly at her. Amorette swiftly sat back against the window again, grinning at Aramis. "My point precisely, the same weakness most if not all men share," she half whispered as she gestured towards Athos who was still refusing to look at her. A few furrowed brows told Amorette D'artagnan hadn't quite caught her meaning. "Beasts," she announced to him with a grin. D'artagnan coughed awkwardly as he averted his gaze and Porthos let out a roar of laughter.

"I'm with her on this one!" Porthos cried.

"Weston will fall for it, trust me!" Amorette confirmed. "How much time will you need Captain?"

Treville seemed to be amused at Athos' reaction but he tried to hide it as he sat back in his chair. "If all five of us search together then we shouldn't need anything more than an hour."

Amorette nodded. "How does three o'clock sound? That gives me enough time to get back to the Palace and find out where Weston is. He leant me a book a while ago, I can call upon him under the pretence of returning it."

Treville nodded. "Alright then. Three o'clock it is, but where will you take him Madam?"

"My own rooms?" Amorette said with a shrug. "They are on the other side of the Palace. Even if he leaves early that still gives me some time to try and warn you."

"Are you sure that's wise?" Athos asked incredulously.

"Do you have any better ideas?" she snapped back at him. "Or perhaps you would rather that I let him take me back to his own lodgings?"

"That really is out of the question," Athos murmured.

"I'll Keep my maid close at hand; and if one of you would be so kind as to walk below the windows of my room to let us know when you have finished your search then I can send him on his way."

"I still don't like it," Athos muttered as he crossed his arms against his chest.

"Athos I'm not asking you or anyone else to like it! I'm trying to help and right now I think it's the only plan we've got. I don't exactly want to shove myself under his nose like a piece of meat but I'm willing to do so if it means that you can all go in search of the information that you need!" Amorette gave a frustrated sigh and pulled her cloak back around her.

"None of us like it Athos," commented Treville. "But unless anyone can think of another reason to keep Weston away from his office and his work for long enough inconspicuously I think right now it's our only choice. Porthos and Athos, why don't you make for the Louvre now and find out who is on duty on that side of the Palace this afternoon? Aramis and D'artagnan, find me a key to Weston's office."

With that Treville stood and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand and Amorette stepped forward as all but Athos and the captain left the room. "May I borrow those for a while Captain? I thought I might make use of them to see if I can get any of my own answers out of Weston?" Treville turned back to look at Amorette's finger which pointed to her hastily written copy of Fairfax's letter and the list of names. "I swear to you I'll place them directly back into the right hands?"

Treville seemed to consider it for a moment before nodding. "Alright, I suppose that's not such a bad idea after all." Gently he reached for the folded documents and handed them to Amorette as swiftly her own little secret plan formed in her mind. If Treville wasn't going to ensure that those other Englishmen faced some form of punishment, then Amorette would have to do so herself.

Just as she turned to leave Treville called her back. "Cometess I appreciate your help in these matters even if I do not agree with the methods we are undertaking. If there should ever come a time when you need assistance in some matter, you know that you may call upon myself or my men at any time."

In her head Amorette found that quite comical. He was talking of favours but ironically she already knew that any one of the five of them would be only too happy to help her should she need it, regardless of whether she had helped them out in the past or not. For a split second she was convinced she would leave without mentioning anything, but her mind flited to Marie currently ensconced in Buckingham's secret apartments on the Rue Perdue.

Turning towards him swiftly, Amorette caught Athos' curious gaze before she looked to Treville. "Actually there is something that I might need assistance with in the future. I'm not permitted to speak of it now, but I hope that I may call upon the help if needed none the less."

Amorette didn't miss Athos' eye roll as she admitted that there was indeed another secret that she was keeping. Treville was gazing at her blankly, as if assessing whether or not he should rebuke his offer of help.

She cleared her throat loudly and before Treville could speak she tried to justify herself. "It's just that it's not my secret to divulge. It's nothing untoward or illegal, honestly. Just someone that might need a little help in future that's all."

Treville offered a small smile as he began to retreat again. "Cometess, you know you have friends here who would help you regardless of circumstance or situation. You may call upon us when the time comes." With that he disappeared into another room and She and Athos were left alone.

Not wanting to face a barrage of questions Amorette simply nodded at him as she stuffed her hat onto her head and retreated outside again. Porthos was waiting for Athos at the bottom of the steps and Amorette threw him a warm smile as she passed him, well aware of footsteps on the steps behind her. Athos took a gentle grip of her wrist and turned her back to face him. Amorette had a retort ready for his questions but she had wrongly anticipated what he was going to say.

Instead of him questioning her secrets, he tried to offer a smile. "You said you wanted to talk to me?"

Amorette grimaced. Now really was not the time for that conversation after all. "Perhaps we should wait Athos. I should get back to the Palace. I still haven't left my belongings in my rooms yet."

"Later?" he asked hopefully.

She nodded, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach at the thought of such a conversation. "Yes, later."

The folded documents thrust deep into the pockets of her skirts, Amorette set off in search of Buckingham to put her own little scheme into motion. Returning his horse to him, she met him outside his lodgings. He invited her in but Amorette shook her head. "Sorry George but I'm in a rush and I've got a proposition for you." Pulling the documents from her skirts she presented them to him, making sure to keep a firm grip upon them. "I swiped these from Treville's desk just now. He's going to use all of this against you all!"

She watched her old friend's eyes narrow suspiciously. "How did the musketeer get this?"

This was where she needed to be careful. If Buckingham found out that she was a double agent, he would more than likely never speak to her again. "George I don't know! Weston perhaps?"

"Weston? No!" he cried. He turned accusing eyes upon her then and Amorette grimaced. This was not an argument that she wanted to have in the street. "Weston wouldn't hand this over to Treville!"

"Perhaps I'm wrong then," muttered Amorette effectively. "But if he didn't hand it over himself, someone swiped it from him and I don't think that's possible. He always seems so careful. I was thinking George, that I should try and talk to him and see what he's up to. There's clearly something amiss here!"

Buckingham shook his head in confusion. "If Treville has seen that list then I need to warn my friends!" He turned to rush back towards his lodgings and Amorette had to grab a fistful of his doublet to stop him.

"George I overheard his conversation and I think I may be able to help you. Treville wants the English ambassador's head on a plate," Amorette lied. "If we give him Jerome Weston then that may placate him a little but I'm not sure by how much. I may be able to get some answers out of Weston since he's taken such a shine to me. Help me get information on Weston to give to Treville and I will give you this list. You can save your friends from punishment, but in order to do so you must throw Weston under the proverbial carriage as it were."

Those beady suspicious eyes were upon her again. "How on earth did you come to hear all of this eh Madam?"

Amorette turned pleading eyes upon him. "Oh George why do you think? I went to see Athos! We've been growing closer and I was actually on my way to tell him how I really felt."

A little truth seemed to pacify her friend a little. His nostrils stopped flaring and his mouth curved into a slight grin. "God woman, how long will you chase that soldier for before you realise he's not interested?"

Amorette sighed with relief as she realised he believed her. "Actually I think we might have a chance George if people like you would stop doubting us so much. To be honest if your name hadn't been on that list along with mine I'd have left it where I found it, but I'm not about to watch them drag us into it when we only tried to help matters."

Buckingham groaned at the look on her face. "What do you want me to do?"

Amorette grinned as she took her friend's hand and began to lead him towards the Louvre. She stuffed the documents back into her pocket as she went, certain that her friend would believe her lies now. "I need you to stage an argument with me. Weston will come to the rescue of the distressed damsel and I have my way in. If you help me in this George, the documents are yours and you may do what you wish with them," she lied effectively. "I think Weston is up to something and if you want to help the friends whose names are on that list, you need to help me first!"

Later on, Amorette would say that her little staged argument with Buckingham had worked like a dream, but in the moments before they put their plan into action she doubted herself considerably. They were poised on opposing sides of the hallway around the corner from Weston's offices and as soon as the door opened and Weston's secretary bustled off, Buckingham began to yell.

"…And why can't you throw some of your vast fortune at this Madam? This is our friends we are talking about!"

"They aren't our friends George, they are yours!" Amorette replied hotly. "Why on earth would I put any money towards a cause that my father believes in? What happened out in the country a few days ago was more than enough to scare me away from any dealings!"

"Where's your damn loyalty?" Buckingham snarled.

From behind her Amorette could hear the sound of quick footsteps. Throwing a smirk at Buckingham just before Weston came upon them she let a few crocodile tears roll down her cheeks. "I've always been loyal to you George! I've never questioned any of your schemes that you constantly drag me into. I'm simply being honest with you now."

"What's going on?" Weston asked self-importantly. "Is everything alright Cometess?"

Amorette shook her head meekly but when Buckingham threw her a mock murderous glance she shrank backwards and said nothing. "I was bringing her to see you Weston!" Buckingham cried. "Madam here is having second thoughts regarding helping us in our endeavours!"

"For heaven's sake Buckingham," hissed Weston as he looked around nervously. "This is not the place for such a discussion."

"As I said Weston, I was attempting to bring her to you but she fought me all the way."

Weston turned to spare Amorette a careful glance before turning back to Buckingham. "Perhaps you should leave this to me then Buckingham? The Cometess and I are good friends after all. Can't you see you are only upsetting her more? The Cometess and I will have a little discussion of our own, without your dulcet tones interrupting."

Amorette let out a relieved sigh as Buckingham turned on his heel and stormed off, barely sparing her a glance. Weston turned back towards her, a warm sympathetic smile firmly in place and Amorette didn't believe it for a second. "Cometess, are you alright?"

Amorette nodded and offered him a small smile as she sniffed and attempted to wipe her tears away with her sleeve in a rather unladylike manner. At once Weston proffered a lacey white handkerchief and Amorette gratefully accepted it to dry her eyes. She felt his hand placed gently in the small of her back to usher her along a little. "Why don't we go somewhere more private to talk Cometess? In fact, your own rooms would provide a more calming atmosphere than my cluttered office?"

Amorette nodded again and let herself be led back down the hallway. She let the English ambassador lead her downstairs and out into the courtyard. As they crossed to the other side of the Louvre Amorette thought she caught a glimpse of Athos watching them from a window above. Tearing her eyes away from the upper floors Amorette tried to shake of the sensation of being watched even as they finally reached her own rooms. Letting them both in, she felt her fake tears finally begin to dry as Weston led her to a couch and instructed Tilda to fetch some tea.

"Now Cometess," Weston finally said when Tilda had set some tea in front of them and retreated to the dining room. "Why don't you tell me what all of this is about?"

He lifted his cup daintily and drank the sweet tea slowly, slurping slightly as he did so. Amorette was remarkably reminded of her father by the action. Trying to dispel her thoughts a little she ran a hand through what was becoming an untidy mess of hair. Removing and replacing her hat throughout the day so many times was taking its toll on the coiffed hairstyle and many locks of hair now tumbled free. "Well you see; monsieur l'ambassadeur I had voiced some concerns to the Duke of Buckingham about this whole conspiracy. I hadn't really meant anything by it but I couldn't help the niggling worries. I'm a sensitive sort of soul, you know that. It just didn't sit well with me I think, to know that so many of you were putting so much at risk. Then Buckingham announces that he thinks I should offer up my own fortune to such a cause when I really know next to nothing about it all! I just feel like there's so much untoward pressure being put upon me for no reason!"

Amorette let the crocodile tears fall again, wondering how on earth an intelligent man like Weston was falling for all of this. Glancing down, her answer was right before her. Just the right amount of cleavage and a few tears and he was putty in her hands. "Cometess your reservations are more than understandable. Of course you wouldn't be expected to put any of your own money towards such a venture and quite frankly I don't know where Buckingham got such an idea from. If I'm honest, I'm not sure your money would be accepted amongst some of the men. You yourself will be aware that one or two of them did not trust you entirely. Besides, we have all the money that we need for now."

"Yes I might have picked up on that," sighed Amorette.

"And I'm sure your father's presence made you uneasy too! I know how you've been feeling about him of late. No one could blame you for being apprehensive about it all. If you wish to have nothing more to do with the whole matter that's entirely up to you. Don't mention this to anyone else but I did wonder at Buckingham involving you in this at all. Not because I doubt you in any way, but rather that it's a rather sordid scheme to drag one's friends into."

Amorette tried to smile warmly at Weston, not sure whether she could hide the fact she didn't believe a word he was saying. Now that she knew a little about Weston's underground dealings, Amorette saw him very plainly for what he was and thought herself a fool for ever liking or confiding in the man. "I won't breathe a word, but is it really alright that I just decide that I want nothing more to do with any of this? Won't that arouse suspicion too?"

"If anyone asks," explained Weston, "I'll simply say that relations between you and your father are strained enough without something like this between you both. I know that he's a source of real pain for you Madam, and as your friend I wish you would confide in me a little more about it all. I want to be able to help you a much as I can where your father is concerned."

Weston's eyes bore into Amorette's suddenly so intently that she had to stand from the couch and walk around the room. She couldn't bare being so close to him as he simpered and lied. She fetched the book he had leant her and handed it back to him. "I'm not quite sure what I shall do about my father Monsieur. He as a tight grip of knowledge upon all of my finances it seems. He knows everything there is to know about my home in England, and the homes of my close friends. It makes me nervous."

"The book did not aid you then?" he asked.

Amorette shook her head, feeling suddenly weary of the whole thing. "Perhaps we could go through the book together Monsieur? You may see something that I did not."

Weston nodded and Amorette took a leap of faith and slid onto the couch next to him. She was by no means going to flirt with him and kept enough distance between them as to still be appropriate but she hoped he might be inclined to overthink the situation as men were want to do. For a time, they sat together and perused the volume on law, with Amorette getting up once to fetch quill and parchment under the pretence of taking some notes. Weston seemed to get closer and closer to her as he read the book over her shoulder, with Amorette barely keeping her resolve when all she wanted to do was jump up and dash across the room away from him.

At length though they exhausted the small law volume and Amorette was sure that an hour was almost up. "I'm very grateful for all of your help in this Monsieur. There isn't really anyone else that I may speak to upon this matter. Buckingham isn't the type to take much time to dwell upon financial and property matters and…" Amorette trailed off, not sure how to finish her explanation.

"You miss your husband don't you?" Weston asked abruptly.

Amorette felt real tears prick her eyes this time as she glanced up at him. Whilst she felt she had come to terms with Fabien's death and the dreams of what had happened to him no longer haunted her as much as they had done in the beginning, there was still something within her that missed the kind hearted poet who opened up a whole new aspect of life to her and had helped her to understand they world she lived in a little better. It was not something that she supposed she was ever going to be ready to admit to anyone; that she also missed the protection that marriage had brought her. She had felt safe and out of reach when she was with Fabien, and married life had brought about some strange kind of reassurance in her own self.

"Yes monsieur I suppose I do," Amorette let out what almost became a wail as the tears cascaded down her cheeks. She had not been expecting to truly cry but in the back of her mind she supposed she might as well let it happen. "Marriage was so freeing for me. I found a husband who valued me as an equal and that is very special. I could not hope to find such a man again, but I do wish I could feel so safe again."

Weston threw an arm around Amorette's shoulders and drew her to him. The shock of such an action happening made Amorette freeze for a few seconds before it registered with her. She tried to gently push him away but his arm held firm. As he crushed her against his side Amorette felt and heard the crumpling of parchment and looked down, sure that Weston had secreted some documents on his person. _Well of course he would have_ , she thought angrily. Amorette was willing to bet it was exactly what Treville was looking for and Weston was clever enough not to leave it lying around. There was no way she was going to be able to swipe it from his pocket in such close proximity without him noticing. They only way to do that would have perhaps been to kiss him and take him by surprise and that was something Amorette already knew she wasn't going to do. "I could curse your father you know, for letting a woman as lovely as you feel so much pain. All of this goes back to him in some way you know. Perhaps if you had been given the upbringing you deserve, you would not have been dealt such an unfair card in life."

Amorette shoved him away, annoyance taking over. "Monsieur I appreciate the sentiment but do you realise what you are saying? I have made my own choices all of my life. My upbringing was the best that my mother could do and actually I happen to think it was exemplary as it has made me who I am. As for unfair, you should think upon my late husband, who had the best years of his life robbed from him. In reality I have been extremely lucky all of my life."

Amorette turned away from him again and rose to walk towards the windows in the hopes of seeing a musketeer below on the lawn. "Madam I realise I spoke out of turn and I'm sorry for it," said Weston from behind her. "It is only that I feel so strongly about your plight. You know I would help you if I could. I have said before that I wish to help you in any way that I can, but there's only one way in which I think I could do so that would benefit us both. I know you will not want to hear it but I will again mention that I think that although we make excellent friends, we may also be compatible as something more-"

"Monsieur l'ambassadeur perhaps this is a conversation for another time!" Amorette cried as she still gazed out of the window. With her hands balled into fists she stared down at the musketeer on the lawn below. "I'm overtired and overwhelmed. Perhaps we should talk again when I am not so overly emotional."

"Of course Cometess," she heard Weston utter quietly. Something in her tone must have told him that she could take no more. "I'll take my leave and let you rest."

Amorette didn't even turn to offer him a goodbye. Her eyes were locked on the cobalt blue ones that still gazed up at her from the lawn, seeming to ask her if she was alright. Only when she heard the door close behind Weston did she offer Athos a wave to let him know the ambassador was gone. He nodded once and moved on. They would expect her at the garrison soon and the documents in her pocket still burned a hole.

Amorette took a few moments to fix her deflated hair and to pin her hat onto her head again before she gathered her cloak and left her rooms again. She watched from the hallway down into the courtyard below as Aramis and D'artagnan seemed to be leaving to head towards the garrison. They motioned to her to follow and she nodded. They walked on and Amorette turned and walked in the opposite direction.

Sometime later, she emerged from the presence rooms and knew it was only a matter of time before Buckingham began to tail her. Amorette reached the Rue Geoffroi before she was absolutely certain that he was following her. She crossed the river and wandered the streets of the Latin quarter for some time before she finally turned and headed towards the Rue du Bac. Buckingham made himself known to her outside the garrison, his outrage at their location obvious. Amorette ignored him though, and trudged into the courtyard where a few musketeers milled about. Without hesitation she took the steps two at a time and followed the narrow corridors until she reached Treville's office.

When she entered, as expected all five musketeers were there. "Sorry, I couldn't shake him off," Amorette muttered as Athos' gaze immediately flew to Buckingham who scurried in behind Amorette. D'artagnan offered Amorette his seat and she gratefully excepted, feeling that she would need to be seated to see the ensuing argument through. Buckingham stayed on nervous feet and began to pace. She saw Treville throw him an irritated glance before smiling gently at her.

"Well, how did it go?" Amorette asked.

"Well enough," mumbled Athos.

"Sorry, how did what go?" Buckingham asked as he paced back and forth.

Amorette let out a heavy sigh, knowing that the truth of their little distraction earlier was the least of her worries. "I'm sorry George, but I didn't know how to explain it to you exactly. Captain Treville used our little distraction earlier to search Jerome Weston's rooms."

"Was this planned?" Buckingham cried as Amorette turned in her seat to look at him. She nodded sorrowfully. "And you didn't think I could cope with the truth Amorette?"

"George I thought you might let something slip. You regard Weston as a friend still."

Buckingham threw Amorette a surprised glare. "And so did you until a short time ago Madam!"

Amorette shook her head at him. "Blame me for lying to you George, but for nothing else. I did what was needed."

Her old friend turned away from her and approached the window, almost as if ashamed to look at her. Amorette turned her worried gaze back towards Treville. "Did you find something that you can use?"

Treville nodded. "I've found enough to warrant an official investigation. Weston will be removed from office, and all of his correspondence will be stopped for the time being but we don't have enough to arrest him just yet. He will be investigated, but he will be free to come and go as he pleases as long as he has no communication with any Englishmen."

Amorette sighed. "He had other papers on him today, perhaps because he doesn't want to leave them to prying eyes. There was no way for me to get them."

"My guess is that they are the ones we need to see," nodded Porthos.

The mood seemed downcast and Amorette felt her mood slipping even further lower. "He's a clever man. I'm betting he won't let those papers out of his sight now."

"Let's not be downbeat about this," exclaimed Treville as he tried to lift the mood. "Things are moving forward in the right direction. Eventually we will uncover the depth of Weston's deceptions and this is the right way to do it. There's been enough deception throughout all of this. We should leave it now to the King's advisors who will look into all of this once I have presented our case to them."

Buckingham let out a sarcastic bark of laughter. Turning back to the room he threw Amorette a disdainful glance. "Well captain, I think we know where the deception lies in all of this don't we." Amorette rolled her eyes at Buckingham's outburst and held up her hand when Athos asked her wordlessly with his eyes if she wanted him to step in. "I'll have those documents now Amorette that you promised me?"

Buckingham was holding out his hand towards her and Amorette inwardly grimaced, knowing that everyone in the room was about to become mad at her. She looked at him blankly to buy a few seconds before the outraged look in his eyes had her giving in. "Yes…about that…" she muttered as she threw a guilty glance Treville's way.

"Where are they?" asked Treville bluntly as he caught her meaning.

Amorette took her hat off and smoothed some of her hair needlessly. "I put those documents into the hand of the King about an hour ago."

"What?!" Buckingham snarled as he leapt forward and pulled Amorette round to face him in her chair. "What the hell did you do that for? So you dragged me around half of Paris for an hour just for the fun of it?"

"It was to buy some time," Amorette muttered. She couldn't bear to look at Treville and see his disappointment that his case had been taken right out of his hands by her. "I said I'd put the documents back into the right hands, and I did."

"What the hell have you done!" Buckingham snarled again so closely to Amorette's face that she flinched. Not willing to take that kind of treatment from someone who she called a friend, Amorette stood up to meet his next outburst. "You foolish cow!"

Buckingham turned away, running a shaky hand through his hair. "George I had to do something. I couldn't just sit by and let all of those men face no punishment for their involvement in that plot!"

"Those are my friends!" he cried so loudly that Amorette felt the windows rattle.

"I know George but even you knew what they were planning was wrong. That was why you asked me to help!"

"I didn't ask you to sign their death warrants though Amorette."

Amorette shook her head, frustrated because she knew that he probably wasn't going to listen to her explanation. "They weren't going to face any punishment for what they were planning!" turning to Treville Amorette said, "You said yourself captain that you only wanted to persue Weston. I had no choice but to give the information straight over to the King! If I hadn't, they'd have gone free! I had to do the right thing George!"

"Oh how like a woman," Buckingham laughed incredulously. "Do you realise what you've done Amorette? You've handed half the peerage of England over to the French authorities. I wouldn't hurry back to England any time soon Madam, because they might just string you up there!"

Athos moved forward to try and intercept the argument but Amorette got there first. "I'm French George! Why can't you get that into your head? I'm French and swear no allegiance to England whatsoever! Was I expected so sit idly by whilst Englishmen plotted to bring down my country and my king?"

"This is because your father was involved isn't it?" asked Buckingham.

Amorette let out a sarcastic peal of laughter. "Do you really think I'm that fickle George? This is about so much more than my relationship with my father!" She turned to Treville then, sure that he expected some explanation too. "Did you really expect me to forget that my father's name was on that list captain? Was I expected to let it be swept under the carpet that my father had involved himself yet again in some terrorist plot?"

"You were expected to be honest with your friends," Buckingham said quietly. "You've always maintained this holier than thou persona Amorette, the perfect Mademoiselle who always does the right thing. In this case, the right thing was to tell your friend the truth!"

Amorette was very quickly losing all of her patience. "Enough George. It's done now! Quite frankly I'm sick of listening to you prattle on about these friends of yours that would have destroyed France if they'd been allowed! You want to know why I did what I did? Because I am sick to death of being walked over by men! I was supposed to toe the line and do exactly what you all say without question. I wasn't going to be the meek and mild Cometess who did what she was told in the face of all of this!" Athos made a grab for Amorette's wrist and she turned back towards him. "Don't you start!" she growled before turning to Buckingham again.

"Amorette you're a bloody fool!" Buckingham exclaimed.

"A fool?" she cried. "If remaining loyal to my King and ensuring those who would thwart him face the correct judgement makes me a fool then yes George I'm the biggest fool there ever was! You; and Weston and my father are all the same! You all shout _jump_ and expect me to ask _how high?_ After what happened in those woods a few days ago did you really assume that I would think any different? You all squabbled like children and father bickered with son! I don't know why any of those Englishmen honestly thought they could win back France. They were all deluded."

Amorette's chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath and attempted to stop the tears from falling. She shoved her hat roughly onto her head and made for the door, ready to storm out and slam it behind her.

"You really are turning into your sister aren't you Cometess?" Buckingham called snidely from behind her.

That was the final straw. Amorette whirled around towards him, well aware of the almost manic grin that befell her face. "My sister was a manipulative, spiteful, deceitful murdering wretch! But above all she was selfish. Now I'm afraid I cannot really fault her for that trait. I learned long ago that in this world of men, selfishness is something that a woman needs within her to get by. I'll admit to being selfish with pride, because I would not stand by and let my father walk free for the crimes he conspired to commit against France! Selfish is something that a woman has to be nowadays otherwise she gets trampled upon by men! For so long I've strived to be so selfless it hurts and it got me nowhere! So yes George, I'm like my sister in some ways and I'm not afraid to admit it. She had this unwavering belief in her ability and courage in her convictions that despite all the wrong she did I cannot fault. She fought to live George. Perhaps I need to start doing the same."

Silence fell around the room, with all six men staring at her as if she had sprouted another ten heads. None of them would shout or argue now, because they knew she would have a reply ready. Buckingham stared at her in anguish. "Why didn't you just tell me what was going on Amorette?"

"If I'd tried would you have listened George?" Amorette asked quietly. She felt all of the fight drain out of her as she realised Athos wasn't even looking at her. He was probably too ashamed and angry with her. "You wouldn't have. Let's be honest, you'd have taken more notice of me if I'd pulled put my pistol, cocked it and put it against your head. War is the only language men understand. No wonder the Queen has her underground movements that go relatively unseen and all of her own schemes that she plays out day after day with the help of her flying squad of Madams. They all wiz past you in a blur because you are all looking for the men with the swords and pistols. We are half the human race, so at some point you are all going to have to open up your minds to the fact that we can fight too, and sometimes our methods might just be better than yours. Do you know something George, your friends made their beds, and now they shall have to lie in them. It is not and never was your responsibility to save them."

Amorette stormed out of Treville's office, down the stairs and out into the street. In her rage she didn't even realise she had dropped her hat.

"Did you know she would take those papers straight to the King?" Buckingham asked Treville.

"No," replied the musketeer captain. Then after a beat he said, "But Athos did."

The Jardin du Luxembourg was deserted as Amorette approached the Palace and swiftly remembered the King mentioning that a hunt was to take place that afternoon. Everyone had probably left the city within the last hour. Secretly Amorette was glad of the peace and quiet as she trudged through deserted hallways. She didn't even know how she had come to be so upset, or what was causing her anger. Without realising it, she had almost walked in a circle, so upset and preoccupied that she hadn't been paying any attention to where she was going.

She found herself walking out into a pretty courtyard from where she could just make out the room to her chambers from an upper window. She sat in the shade of the blossom tree to catch her breath and decided that she needed to try and make sense of all of her feelings and emotions or she would never sleep again. It was as she closed her eyes to let her thoughts fly before her eyes that a hand clamped down upon her shoulder. Thinking that she was completely alone, Amorette let out a yelp as she jumped up from the stone bench.

"Apologies Cometess," smiled Jerome Weston. "I didn't mean to startle you. Have you recovered yourself a little from earlier?"

Amorette tried to stumble backwards, at a loss for what to say in that moment. "I…Mon…. I thought you would have been on the hunt Monsieur, with everyone else?"

Weston nodded good naturedly. "I had intended to go on the hunt yes, but my plans changed a little when I approached my rooms about two hours ago and found a brigade of Red Guards there to arrest me. Luckily I got away without my being seen. They arrested my secretary instead."

"W…What?" Amorette stammered as she attempted to play dumb.

"Yes I thought it a curious thing too Madam," said Weston as he advanced towards her. "That documents I secreted in my own rooms suddenly found their way into the hands of the French King." He knew; and he knew that Amorette knew. Before she had time to react, Weston brought his hand up to caress the side of her face. "It was you wasn't it Madam?" Amorette swiped his hand away and began to back away but from nowhere Weston produced a dagger and pointed it right at her. "You run, and I throw this at you. That's how this is going to work."

"Th…They know Monsieur. The King knows everything! What can you hope to achieve by all of this?"

Weston grabbed Amorette's shoulder and turned her around so that she faced away from him. She was aware though of the blade pressing into the curve of her side just below her ribs. "You will walk where I direct you Madam. We are going to go and retrieve those papers."

"They've already been seen by the King and his advisors!" cried Amorette even as he gave her a sharp nudge and she was sent forwards. They left the courtyard and made their way to the other side of the Louvre to where the King's private rooms lay.

"Where will the documents be?" were the only words he spoke as they climbed a flight of stairs.

"Maybe the King's council chambers," Amorette gasped out. "That's where he was when I gave them to him. Either that or his private chambers I should think."

"Good," Weston muttered. "That's more like it. A little compliance goes a long way Madam. I know you aren't one for following orders but in cases such as this, it's required of you." He took such a tight grip of her upper arm then that Amorette knew it would bruise later. They marched towards the King's council chambers that were deserted. Weston locked the door behind them and pushed Amorette into the room.

Looking around in the slowly fading afternoon light, Amorette was surprised by how tidy the room was. She'd been in the room only once and then the table had been littered with documents and ledgers. The table surface was entirely empty now. Everything had been cleared away completely. Weston moved towards cabinets that ran along one wall of the room and began to open them. The first few were empty, but the rest were locked. When he tried to prise one open with the dagger Amorette took her chance and raced towards the door.

Weston slammed into her from the side and drove her into the wall. Amorette felt the cold steel of the dagger press against her throat even as she tried to recover from having the breath knocked out of her lungs. "It's not here is it?" he snarled at her, his spit landing on her nose.

"I don't know!" Amorette cried. "The papers could be in his own rooms or he may even have taken them with him. The King is no fool. If his advisors have also gone on the hunt with him, they will have encouraged him to take it with him for safe keeping. His own rooms are guarded at all times Monsieur. There is no chance for you to retrieve them."

"NOT ANOTHER WORD!" Weston snarled in Amorette's ear and she let out a squawk as the cold steel of the dagger moved, tracing its way across the skin of her chest before it slipped under her bodice to lie between her breasts. A guttural scream died on Amorette's tongue as she saw the anger and disgust in Weston's eyes. From just beyond the door Amorette heard the stiff marching feet of a patrol. Whether Red Guards or musketeers she could not tell or care. "One more sound and I start cutting," he whispered.

Amorette couldn't help the whimper that escaped her lips, but the sound of the soldiers' footsteps were dying away as they retreated down the hallway. "What will harming me get you?" Amorette whispered to him as she thought she could hear her own heartbeat reverberate around the room. "It may be a release for your anger but adding my death to your list will not change anything. You'll still die for your crimes."

The knife moved a little and Amorette gasped. "You know Madam; your death was never my intention. When discussions about the plot first began and your father was bought on board, we spoke of you almost instantly. It seemed ludicrous to kill a woman whose own father is English so your father and I hastily agreed on a much more agreeable solution. It cannot have gone unnoticed to you Madam," Weston moved closer as he spoke so that his mouth was directly next to Amorette's ear. "That my attentions to you were of a singular nature. It was agreed that you should become my wife, shortly after your own husband did die. I thought you might even have complied with the theory, having taken me into your confidence more than once in a friendly manner. It could still be so. I could leave Paris; take you with me and have us married far away from here!"

Amorette groaned from the pain of trying to hold his weight as he leaned into her. "Monsieur perhaps you have forgotten but a year ago someone else tried to marry me by force. That man was a very close friend of mine once and even he did not succeed. You may think you can have your way with me, dragging me about with a knife shoved down my dress but there are others who will not let such a thing happen. Even if it did, it would not be me you would be marrying. You may marry my body but you cannot have my heart Monsieur! I'd rather die than live as your wife!"

Amorette would have shoved him away had he not placed his knife so precariously. Instead she was forced to try and stay as still as possible as he moved away an inch and grabbed her chin in his hand. There was something new there in his eyes now and Amorette might have thought him drunk if she hadn't known where he had been all day. He glanced down towards the placement of his knife between her breasts and grinned.

"You know Madam; I knew pretty much all along that you were up to something! As soon as I realised Buckingham had brought you along to our meeting I knew you were there in the capacity of a spy. I'm no fool. I know you are loyal to France! All that was left for me to do was work out who had assigned you your task. It didn't really matter though in the end. We were always going to end up here. You might pine after that damned musketeer but where is he now eh? He might have come to your rescue before but you're on your own now. When I came back to Paris before you and saw the book I leant you in your rooms everything was confirmed!" Amorette threw him a curious glance. "Yes Madam I searched your rooms. You asking to lend that book was a rouse! I knew that and I knew you were playing me today! Those crocodile tears did not fool me but who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth? A young pretty thing like you crying to an old crone like me doesn't happen very often! So I let you cry on, safe in the knowledge that your conspirator, whoever they were would not find anything in my rooms. I really don't know what it is about you French whores, but you seem to have been allowed to run wild! I meant what I said earlier today you know. If your father had been in charge of your upbringing you would not behave so brazenly."

Amorette shook her head, completely at a loss for what to say for a few moments. "Monsieur if you knew, then why did you go along with it? Why not call me out? I thought you trusted me! For a while now we have been close friends! I confided in you! I admit I never thought of you as anything but a father figure but I did think you a good man, I thought you handsome and kind."

Amorette let out a sigh, and sank back even further into the wall in mock defeat. It worked. Weston removed the knife from her dress and as it hung limply in his hand Amorette took her chance. Using more force than she had ever dreamed that she would have in her, she brought her knee up between Weston's legs as hard as she could until she smacked into his groin. At once his eyes became dazed and he grunted with pain. He would have fallen to the floor had Amorette not grabbed a fistful of his doublet to hold him up. Stuffing her shaking hand into the inside of his clothing she tore out the documents hid there. She pulled his face towards hers then, despite the uncontrollable shaking of her hands.

"That Monsieur, is another thing us French girls do very well!" With that, Amorette let go of his doublet and he slumped to the floor with another painful groan.

Amorette didn't know how she was going to program her shaking hands to unlock the door but it all happened in a blur. Before she knew it she was racing down the hallway, the heels of her shoes clattering along the tiles and her heartbeat ringing in her ears. When she reached the staircase she saw a familiar hat and its plume of feathers through the window and she clattered on, nearly tripping over her own feet as she imagined the thought of throwing herself into his arms. She heard them bursting through the doors downstairs but when she finally reached the lower floor and caught sight of him she couldn't go to him as she had imagined. He opened his mouth to speak, his arms held out towards her but instead she shoved the documents into his chest. "He's all yours!" she cried and carried on running.

Athos opened the documents as Porthos and D'artagnan dragged Jerome Weston up from the floor. As he read the beginnings of the first letter he blanched. "Good God! He was going to kill the King; today!"

Treville took the documents from Athos and rifled through them looking for information on others who may need to be arrested.

Amorette tore into her rooms and threw the door closed behind her. She sank to the floor, grabbing a decanter of brandy from a side table as she went. As she began to cry again Amorette removed the lid and gulped the brown liquid straight from the decanter, letting the brandy warm her insides. She sniffed loudly and tried to wipe her tears on the end of her sleeve again. Contemplating drinking all of the alcohol in the decanter, she took another swig. Brandy wasn't something that she ever really drank but she always had some nearby for Buckingham's use. It certainly wasn't needed now was it? Not when her actions had driven him away. It occurred to her then that in all of the commotion and confusion that she hadn't eaten a single thing all day. That meant she would get drunk quicker. With any hope she would fall asleep quickly and forget for a few blissful hours everything that had happened to her that day. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't hear the door opening and closing beside her.

"Perhaps you should have something to eat before you drink any more of that," came a gruff voice from somewhere above her head.

Looking up, through her tears she could just make out Athos. He took the almost empty decanter from her and replaced to the table before reaching for Amorette's hands to pull her to her feet. In the dining room they waited in silence for Tilda to return from Athos' errand. When she did, she bore a heavy platter of sweet meats, cheese and bread. Amorette was surprised that her stomach didn't gurgle at the delicious smell of the food, but her appetite was gone. Tilda bustled about for a few more minutes, setting a weak wine before them both before Athos told her to go on home. "I'll stay with her tonight," she heard him say as Tilda smiled and left.

Amorette made no reply to his comment, although she didn't really believe what he had said and glanced down at the platter of food. "I'm not even hungry," she groaned.

"I am," Athos muttered. "Will you not eat with me, even to be polite."

Amorette scoffed at him, but she broke off a piece of bread and ate it together with some meat. They ate in silence and with every bite Amorette felt her tipsy mind regain its composure. She only sipped at the weak wine, realising how childish it had been of her to wish herself drunk. For ages after they had finished eating neither of them spoke. Amorette looked up suddenly as Athos slipped of his doublet and threw it around the back of the chair. It was dark outside, and Tilda must have lit the fires before she left because it was now almost too warm in the room.

"How did you know to come after me?" Amorette asked abruptly.

"You'd left your hat behind so I'd have come to find you at some point anyway but Captain Neville came running to us, and told us that the brigade sent by the King to arrest Weston had not been able to find him anywhere. Actually, I think Neville was sent to warn you rather than us but not finding you in your rooms, he went straight to the garrison thinking you would be there."

Amorette nodded her understanding. She looked back up at him and perhaps it was the brandy and the wine that had made her a little braver and able to ask her next question. "Did you never even think about it? About you and me, together?"

Talking about that was far easier than discussing what had happened to her that day, Amorette mused. It struck her too, that if she had not been married she would not have asked that question. In essence she had been almost childlike in attitude towards marital relations before her marriage to Fabien. He had opened all of that up though and taken away her inhibitions. Athos took in her quirked eyebrow and flushed cheeks and realised what her question really meant.

He seemed to think on his answer for a rather long time before speaking. "If you mean before I married your sister, yes it did enter my head but not in the way that you think. Before I met your sister I had considered you as a marriage prospect. How could I not have? You were kind, respectable, loving and everything that a man could wish for in a wife. You were one of my closest friends and confidants and I knew that a marriage to you would not be an unhappy one. There was also the aspect of you being uncommonly pretty. The thing is though, that I did not think any deeper than that. Back then I thought of you as a brother might a sister. Things changed when you came to Paris a year ago though. You were not what I remembered. You were right in what you said to Buckingham, that in ways you have chosen to think more of yourself in recent times and I think that perhaps is what drew me in so. You see, I could not have loved you before when you did not love yourself.

"But none of this means that I love you because you begin to resemble your sister in any way. In fact, what my feelings for you are borne from is that you are so remarkably different to your sister. If those thoughts still circle your head, then this will not work. If you've let go of them, then that is something we may begin to build foundations upon; at your own pace of course. We can go as slowly as you like."

Amorette felt like her head was about to explode. She scratched her head for something to do with her hands and then got up to pace around the table in confusion. "How like you to just blurt everything out like that." She groaned. "I can't think straight."

"We don't have to do this now," replied Athos. "You asked me a question and I answered it. We can wait if you like."

Amorette nodded. "We've waited long enough though haven't we? It's just hard to think of how we can get to that point where we know it will work and I…" Amorette's thoughts trailed away as another thought occurred in her head. "Athos is Treville very angry with me?"

He looked surprised at the swift change of conversation for a moment before he smiled gently. "No, he's no reason to be annoyed with you. I knew if we told you that the list was not of use to us and that we only wanted Weston, you would not stand idly by. If you knew we were going to bring down the whole lot of them, there was the risk that you really would give that list over to Buckingham so that he could save his brother in law. I knew though that you would not wish your father and his friends to go unpunished though. So if we gave you just enough of an inclination, you'd go straight to the King. It was all planned. You forget that I know you Amorette. We've known each other-"

"Yes, yes I know, for over twenty years," Amorette finished for him.

He threw her a curious glance then. "No," he replied. Twenty-six years actually, and counting."

"What?" she asked. "Athos I'm twenty-six and I met you when I was five. That's twenty-one years."

He shook his head solemnly. "I didn't think you knew, and I never thought it of any importance to tell you as you would not remember it. Amorette I held you in my arms when you were only a few days old. I was nearly eight."

Amorette's jaw dropped. "Why did you never tell me that? Why did no one ever tell me?"

He shrugged. "It didn't seem important. It's not like you'd have known it for yourself."

Amorette returned to her seat beside him and took his hand in hers and squeezed. "Of course it's important because it's your memory. Actually, the fact that it is singularly your memory alone makes it all the more important."

Those cobalt blue eyes were so bright and alive in that moment that Amorette could be in no doubt of what he wanted to do. She smiled back at him, a little overwhelmed at being on the receiving end of such a look from the man that she had loved for twenty-one years. It was in that split second as they stared at one another that Amorette realised it would work. It had to, because they both deserved it.

Athos stood abruptly then, and for a few seconds Amorette was worried that he was going to walk away from her. Instead though he held out his hand for her to take, and she did. Pulling her to her feet he drew her towards him until he was able to place a hand at the small of her back. With the other still holding her hand in his he suddenly began to sway gently with her around the room, the waltz becoming more pronounced as they went. Amorette let out a peal of laughter as they almost crashed into the table at one point. It was then that she remembered how he rarely danced in the old days. Mostly he would have been ensconced in a corner having a deep intellectual conversation whilst the party carried on around him. He could always be persuaded to dance though if he had indulged in enough wine and if Amorette was particularly encouraging but Amorette knew it had only ever been her he had danced with.

She stopped abruptly then to look at him. "Athos what are you doing?" she asked.

"I thought this was what you wanted." Athos said.

Amorette let go of his hand and stepped back. "No Athos it isn't."

His brow knitted in confusion. "I saw Fabien dance with you a lot. You always looked so happy to me. That's how he wooed you."

Amorette let a chuckle escape her. "Yes Athos Fabien did woo me but you see, you are not Fabien. You are your own person, and I have been in love with said person since I was five years old. I think we are a bit beyond the wooing point, don't you?"

If Amorette had been expecting him to speak, she was wrong. She didn't have time to expect anything at all though. He lunged towards her and captured her face in his hands and kissed her. For a split second the world stopped and Amorette froze in shock. Very quickly though, she began to kiss him back. Athos leaned against the table behind him and drew her too him, wrapping her tightly in his arms as he deepened the kiss. His thumb gently brushed against the side of her neck as Amorette pushed towards him even further until she was pressed against him. She heard him groan slightly as she placed more weight onto him and she smiled beneath the kiss.

Suddenly he turned so that Amorette was leaning against the table, with Athos standing between her legs. They kissed feverishly, with Amorette's hands delving deep into Athos hair. His hands left her neck and travelled up and down her sides, tracing her curves. Eventually he came up for air and they gazed at one another for a few minutes. Amorette grinned in spite of herself. How she had imagined this happening over and over since she had known what it was to kiss a man and now they were here, panting breathlessly, entwined with one another. She watched his heavily lidded eyes slowly travel over her flushed face, down her neck and loose tendrils of hair towards her chest. Amorette couldn't help that as she breathed her breasts swelled to press against her bodice. She didn't know what she expected to see on his face in that moment, but it was not dismay.

"What on earth is that?" he growled.

Amorette glanced downwards into her cleavage, struggling in only the light of the fire to see droplets of blood between her breasts. She sighed heavily. "I didn't realise he'd cut me…" she sat up again as Athos moved back a little.

"What do you mean?" he said as he placed a hand on either side of her waist.

Amorette looked back up towards his face and saw a steady anger building there. She would have to tell him now because he wouldn't drop it. "Weston…he shoved his knife down my dress to stop me from trying to get away from him."

Amorette felt the colour drain from her cheeks. She didn't want to remember what had happened that afternoon. Athos' anger was barely contained as he turned away from her for a few minutes to school his face. When he turned back, he still looked anguished. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't realise he'd cut me," she murmured. "And I don't really want to have to remember it right now." Athos gathered her into his arms and she put her head against his chest. "Athos I thought he was going to…I really did think he was going to cut me!" Amorette sobbed suddenly. Athos tightened his hold, not able to speak for anger. "He called me a French whore."

Athos drew away from her quickly to look down into her face. "Amorette you may not think very highly of yourself at all but one thing you are not is a whore! You know that!" she nodded and he pulled her close again. Amorette let his rhythmic heartbeat sooth her rattled mind, sure that her own heartbeat was racing. At length his mouth found hers again as the light of the fire grew lower and lower.

 _ **Boom! I think I'm happy with that, but were you? It's baby steps with these two I think right now, so you'll have to wait and see if he's resigned to sleeping on the couch or not! There's more to this scene, but I think that chapter was more than long enough don't you! I hope it lived up to the expectations!**_


	41. Chapter 41

_**I'm really sorry for the delay with this, but a good friend of mine passed away last week and I haven't really felt much like writing for the last lot of days.**_

 _ **Thanks for the reviews as ever!; in answer to one of the questions, I have based this story upon the characters from the 2014 television series but that's just my preference. I'm sure many of you will wish to imagine other versions of musketeer awesomeness and that's great! I don't know if the ending of the last chapter went exactly how everyone would have liked, but I'm very happy with it! It was entirely planned from the beginning to happen that way, but something cropped up at the end of this one that wasn't planned. It's rather nice though and it makes sense now that I've written it.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Amorette pulled at the material of her undergarments until the lace ribbons were pulled taught and she could see the valley between her breasts in the mirror. The cut had looked far worse when the corset had pushed everything inwards and upwards but now Amorette could see that the cut was not very deep at all and would more than likely be unnoticeable in a day or two. She breathed a sigh of relief and used a damp cloth to clean away the now dried blood. There had been a niggling worry in her mind that if the cut had been deep, it might have scarred. Pushing those thoughts from her mind she wrapped herself in a warm robe and returned to the parlour, where Athos was reclining back on one of the couches. Ignoring him for the moment, Amorette approached a side table and poured herself another glass of wine, grateful that Tilda had seen the sense of bringing them a weak vintage to drink.

When she turned back to the room to offer Athos another glass, he was already staring at her worriedly. His eyes seemed to be trying to assess her mood and Amorette thought that she knew why. "The cut isn't very deep, don't worry. I expect it will have healed in a day or two."

Her answer didn't seem to pacify him very much. He still seemed troubled as he moved his legs so that Amorette could perch beside him on the couch. He let out a long breath when Amorette smiled warmly to him and took a sip of her wine. "I thought you were worried about that," he muttered.

"Of course I was," she chuckled as she tried to make light of the situation. "He almost cut away my best assets!"

Her joke didn't seem to amuse Athos, but he made no remark about it. Instead he pulled her towards him so that he could drape an arm around her shoulder. For a while they sat in the near darkness with only the dwindling firelight for company. The silence they shared was not an awkward one by any means; both too exhausted to really make the effort of conversation but not wanting to miss the opportunity to spend some time in one another's company. At length Amorette's mind did wander towards just what would happen to Jerome Weston now. She voiced her thoughts aloud and felt Athos stiffen behind her. She supposed that was because she herself had voiced that she wanted to avoid the whole conversation altogether and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

Athos sighed heavily and stroked his beard gently before answering. "He's likely been taken to either the Châtelet or the Bastille; my guess would be the former. After what we discovered within those documents that you found on his person, Treville would have no choice but to lock him away I think. He will acquire the most comfortable rooms there of course with his wealth. The letters contained correspondence from men who are within the King of England's inner circle. It seems that their plan was that if everything went wrong, Weston was to kill the King of France. The letters themselves seem to confirm that the King of England did not in fact have any knowledge of later developments of the plot otherwise we may be dealing with entirely different circumstances. He will be held on charges of treason which will be easily reputed as he is not in fact a French subject, but I'm sure between Treville, the King and his closest advisors they will come up with a suitable charge within the next few days. They cannot kill him though, whatever they decide. Killing an English diplomat could bring about open hostility. After a war with Spain, the last thing the King will want to have to fend off is war with England. I'd say that your involvement Madam will be entirely omitted from any proceedings. I know it may anger you that Weston's actions today towards yourself will not in effect be brought to the knowledge of the court, but surely you will understand that he will likely face some form of punishment when he is returned to England anyway."

Amorette sat up and turned to face Athos, his arm dropping from her shoulder to her waist as she moved. She could see in his eyes that he was worried about how all of this news would affect her. "In truth Athos I am not upset that he will not face any particular justice for his actions to me. I'd rather that my name be kept out of things. You and I both know that I have English friends and family who may not take too kindly to my intervention. I'd rather that no one knew about it all. Despite everything, is it strange that I still feel somewhat sorry for Weston; well perhaps not him in particular but he has three daughters who rely upon him?"

"That makes you human," Athos murmured as he pulled her back down to rest against his chest. "Where he is apparently not. You are thinking of his daughters, and most likely his friends and indirect family too but it is not your place to do so. It should have been him to think of all of those people before he involved himself in any of it! The same goes for all involved. You did the right thing, even though you still doubt yourself. Every man whose name was on that list will now be either languishing in French prison or will be on the run back to England with their tails between their legs. If they do make it home, they won't be returning to France any time soon. I know some stricter form of punishment may have been more to your liking but it would be utter madness for the King to do anything more than expel them from France. He would risk too much if he were to ask for their deaths." Athos' hand came up to smooth Amorette's hair and the gentle gesture had her closing her eyes, relaxing against his chest where her head was perfectly placed again to listen to his rhythmic heartbeat. "You were wrong you know," he said abruptly.

"About what?" Amorette asked sleepily.

"Your best assets," Athos mumbled with only a hint of humour in his voice. Amorette sat up again a little and strained her eyes to see him in the near darkness. "There are another two candidates for such a role I think." He faltered a little then as Amorette smirked, her boldness seeming to make him nervous. "Not that your breasts aren't…. well…" Amorette was laughing openly now, decidedly pleased that for once she was not the one squirming in awkwardness. "What I mean to say is that much more to my appreciation is what is in here," Athos pointed to her forehead. "And perhaps most of all; here." His hand moved, coming to lie flat across Amorette's chest where she felt her racing heartbeat punch against the palm of his hand. "I think what is in your heart Madam, has no rival at all." There was no other way to explain how Amorette felt in that moment than to lean in and kiss him again.

There was little to see of the Jardin de Tuileries in the gloomy void of the early morning hours as Amorette pressed her face against the cool window pane. They had forgotten to draw the curtains closed before they both fell into bed hours ago. They had both been exhausted beyond measure and perhaps that was why Amorette's mind had roamed so freely into her strange dream of walking towards the Pont Neuf in early morning Paris; always the same dream that began and ended the exact same way. Screwing her face up, Amorette tried to mentally shake that horrific fear she always felt just as she was about to hit the surface of the river water in the dream.

"Amorette, you'll catch a cold if you stand there all night!" She turned back to the bed where Athos lay fully clothed, minus only his doublet and boots. If not for the moonlight, she would not have seen the worried frown painted across his face.

Amorette shuffled back to the bed, her bare feet slapping against the wooden floor as she went. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep," she mumbled as she sat on the edge of the bed and swung her legs under the counterpane.

For a few minutes neither of them said any more, and Amorette thought that with any luck Athos had fallen back to sleep. She wasn't sure sleep would ever come for her though. She lay on her side, staring out towards the glistening moon and wondered just how many others in the world lay awake at that moment, looking at exactly the same moon. An arm gently slipped around her waist and pulled her backwards into a solid warm body.

"What's the matter?" Athos asked, the end of his beard scratching the side of Amorette's face.

She clutched his arm and pulled it tighter around her. "Nothing, go back to sleep Athos." After a few seconds, using the arm that was draped around her; Athos turned Amorette over so that she lay on her back with him leaning over her. He quirked an eyebrow gently, and Amorette knew he wasn't going to give up until she told him the truth.

She sighed heavily as his warm breath ghosted over her face. "It's the same dream I've been having since I came back to Paris…" Just like that she began to explain what she saw in her dreams most nights, and of how it meant nothing at all to her.

Athos listened in reserved silence and eventually turned Amorette around again to lie on her side whilst she talked. When she had finished, Athos made a non-committal noise in his throat that told Amorette that he didn't know what her dream meant either. She had not expected him too. When she really thought about it, how was a liberal, hard-nosed, essentially aloof trained soldier like Athos to know what a dream meant. That would be like asking Porthos to name the benefits and uses of every herb and plant in the country.

Contrary to what she believed, Amorette did fall asleep again soundly that night. Perhaps the musketeer's presence aided her nerves somewhat, or perhaps it was just a relief to finally speak of the dream that had been plaguing her for over a year. It was the same for the nights to follow, whilst the dream was present and as familiar as ever, Amorette never had trouble getting back to sleep when Athos had come to her.

Weeks turned into months slowly, with time passing in a blur. Athos would come to her when he could, and together they would sleep in her rooms. He did not come every night, and Amorette had anticipated that. She knew that he kept a busy schedule and that his duties would more often than not keep him from her. If she was awake when he was taking his leave of a morning he would always promise to seek her out later that night and Amorette would give the self-same reply, "Don't make promises that you cannot keep Athos." Some nights he was on duty, and on others he had left Paris with his three friends on one of their excursions. On other nights he simply could not slip away from the slightly inebriated eyes of his friends in the tavern. Neither Amorette or Athos chose to speak to their respective friends about the new development between them both. For Amorette, it certainly was not about deliberately shutting people out or locking away more secrets about her life. It was rather that after waiting for so long to finally be together, they didn't want any interruptions or intrusions to spoil what they had in those precious first few months.

Amorette supposed she would have found it very hard to share a bed with Athos if she had not been married to Fabien. He had helped her shake off some of her fears and inhibitions regarding relations with men and perhaps that was why it was only now that she and Athos could have the relationship that they both wanted. Amorette remembered the nerves and jitters she would feel at Athos' slightest touch before her marriage, but now he kissed her and held her in his arms and she felt no apprehension at the contact. Despite spending every night that they could together, they had yet to even discuss the matter of taking their relationship further. Amorette didn't know why it felt so freeing to just spend time together, but it did. Perhaps it was because her feelings were so strong for the musketeer that she needed time to come to terms with what they meant to each other slowly. Athos never pushed the matter at all and Amorette began to suppose that he too needed to adapt to what it was between them now.

It was on one of those such evenings when Athos came to Amorette in a restless mood and with a question on his mind. Amorette was lounging on one of the couches in her night things when the now familiar knock of four raps upon her door came. A second later he ventured into the room and removed his doublet. He spared the letter that Amorette had been reading a glance as it lay on the arm of the couch before dropping down beside her to greet her with a chaste kiss. Amorette knew almost instantly that there was something bothering him, and when he eventually spoke, Amorette knew it was a question that he had perhaps been waiting months to ask her.

"This help you told Treville and I that you might need regarding a secret; am I to take it that you still cannot speak of it Amorette?"

Amorette closed her eyes and sighed with frustration. Opening them again, she took his hand in hers. "Athos I do not want to lie to you, so please don't ask me what it's about. That way I do not have to lie! I meant what I said when I told you that it was not my secret to tell. I'm not deliberately trying to be evasive you know! If Aramis or Porthos or D'artagnan spoke with you regarding some private matter and asked you not to speak of it, you would not do so; not even to me! Do not ask me to betray the same trust in a friend of mine!"

"This is slightly different though Amorette." Athos sighed. "I do not ask you to betray this friend's trust at all. I'm only concerned that this secret may be putting you in danger! You must see how you putting yourself in the firing line is going to worry me! Look what happened last time when you conveniently didn't mention that you were in the Queen's employ!"

"This has nothing to do with the Queen!" Amorette cried. "Well at least not directly. Please Athos, if you don't ask me then I don't have to lie to you. As soon as I can speak of it I will and you will be the first person I tell, I swear it."

Athos brought their entwined hands towards his lips and planted a kiss on the back of Amorette's hand. "Just try not to get yourself blown up this time!" Amorette threw Athos' arm around her own shoulders and burrowed into his side. He was shaking his head bemusedly, knowing that he would let her keep her secrets for now even if he felt like a fool in doing so. Amorette caught his glance towards the letter that she had been pouring over for the last hour. She supposed that although it wasn't a matter she particularly wanted to discuss in great detail, it would prove to Athos that she really did want to tell him everything.

"Read it," she said as she reached for the letter and handed it to him.

Athos shook his head. "No, it's fine. I can't presume to pry into every letter that you ever receive and that's not what I meant when I said I don't like you keeping secrets."

Amorette sighed. "My cousin Lettice is getting married."

"Are you going to the wedding?" Athos asked. Amorette screwed up her nose and shook her head. "Why not?"

"Lettice is from the English side of my family, so it would mean another run in with my father which I would rather avoid at all costs!"

Athos scratched his chin through his beard. "Are you really going to put your life on hold because you don't want to speak to your father?"

Amorette turned incredulous eyes upon him. "I am not putting my life on hold! I have more cousins than I can count and I cannot go to every family wedding in England or I'd never be at home in France. I'll send her an expensive gift to placate her and perhaps invite her and her husband to visit me in the country if they go travelling. Besides, Buckingham will probably be at the wedding."

"I thought you wanted to make your peace with Buckingham?" he asked.

Amorette smiled at him warmly in recognition of his carefully controlled tact. She knew that Athos probably thought that she was better off without the Duke of Buckingham in her life but he knew that ultimately, Buckingham's friendship had meant a great deal to Amorette for a very long time. He tried to evade the subject most of the time, only consenting to discuss it if Amorette brought it up first. "I don't think there will be any making peace this time Athos. He ignored the letter again."

"How many is it you've sent now?"

"I send one every week Athos. I think it's safe to say he doesn't want to know any more!" Amorette folded the letter and sat forward to place it into a trinket box on the table.

"He's a man. You have to understand that most men, including myself at the best of times are only capable of one solid emotion at once. He's hurting and feels betrayed. He won't be able to recall how important your friendship is to him whilst he's still smarting. Once his upset has subsided he will see things more clearly. That's why I told you to keep writing if you want to repair the friendship. Eventually one of your letters will reach him on the right day and you will get a reply."

Amorette threw him a quizzical glance. "Have you been talking to Aramis? He's usually the one with the clever words of wisdom that astound all who hear! Hark at you, trying to be the wise one!"

Athos threw her a mock glare as she swatted him on the arm and then he pulled her towards him and kissed her roughly.

Public trials were in effect, more of a show of justice and power that people flocked to nevertheless, but Jerome Weston's was not one of them. Stripped of his position as English Ambassador and thrown into the Châtelet where he saw none but French lawyers who were little able to help him, he was still ultimately considered a political prisoner. It angered Amorette to think of what his punishment would likely be. He and his family would be expelled from France, but he would go back to England and to his home and daughters. He would not return a hero though.

Although the trial was held under lock and key and only selected members of the King's own council were permitted to attend, Amorette still managed to discover the ins and outs of it from Sacha Rouzet. As a lawyer, he was able to gain unprecedented access to the trial through some of his peers. He came late to Amorette's rooms one evening to deliver the latest news and she sent up a prayer of thanks that she had been gracefully alone in her rooms.

"The King of England writes that he knew nothing of this coup that was created practically under his nose," mused Sacha as he poured himself another glass of wine.

"Of course he does," Amorette muttered sarcastically.

Sacha shook his head bemusedly. "Now now Madam. Let's not dwell on that prospect too readily. The English King has given his word that Weston will not be allowed to return to English court and will face some form of punishment for his actions towards France. Even if he did know of the scheme and Weston is one of his closest confidants, he would be a fool to go back upon his word. He will simply send another form of fire power our way."

Amorette swallowed apprehensively. "What do you mean by that? Did Weston say something along those lines?"

Sacha shook his head. "No Madam. He only spoke to confirm his name. I think he knew better than to let his mouth run away with itself in such a situation. He was not happy about it, but he let his French lawyers speak for him. Of course they are acting in the best interests of France and were not really upon his side of the fence at all. They advised him according to how the King wished that he be advised. As a legal man myself I do not agree with that system in particular but there is nothing I could actively do. Weston should have been allowed English legal counsel in my eyes."

"I'm sorry Sacha but I'm going to have to disagree with you on that count. If it were a real trail, were Weston might actually face execution or banishment to the colonies then I might see your point but the man will be released onto English soil in a few weeks' time! He can go back to his quiet, very richly endowed life in the country with his daughters. I think on the face of it he got off very lightly. Why on earth would he need English counsel? In fact, he might have used it as a way to concoct some other vicious scheme. No, he was better in the care of French lawyers."

Sacha gave no reply, instead choosing to simply nod at Amorette over the top of his wine glass. For a while he observed the rain that hammered down outside the windows of Amorette's dining room before turning back to her with a smile upon his face and a new topic of conversation upon his lips. "Claude will be happy to see the Autumn season descending upon us. She's been rather rattled of late, with her husband back in Paris."

"That's what you get when you have an affair behind your husband's back…" Amorette mused quietly. "How is Ynes?" she asked as her mind drifted to the little baby that she had taken such a liking to over the last few months.

"She's getting better. I don't understand how she could have been quite so sickly during the warmest months of the year but she's over the worst of it I think."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Amorette.

"Yes, we might actually get around to organising the christening once Claude's husband goes back to the country; which is another matter that I wanted to speak with you about." Sacha smiled then, and Amorette felt a strange knot of nerves begin to grow in her stomach at the prospect of what she thought Sacha was about to ask her. "I know Claude wants to ask you herself, but you know as well as I do that she has no flair for simplicity. I just wanted to give you fair warning so that when she does announce it to you in what will probably be a very public and ostentatious manner that she doesn't frighten you off entirely. I'm sure you know already, but we would like you to be God-mother."

Amorette shook her head, sure that he would retract his question given some encouragement. "I had thought you might ask Claude's niece Georgitte? Surely she would be a better candidate?"

Sacha laughed good naturedly. "Madam you know very well how much I love Claude, but I think I can say that she is altogether a little mad and silly sometimes. Her niece has grown to resemble her greatly over the last lot of months so you will forgive me if I do not consider that an option. What I mean to say is that I wish my daughter to have a woman in her life who is neither of those things. I think you are the perfect example of how I'd want my daughter to be when she is older. You have a sense of grace and integrity about you that Claude seems to have lost along the way. I want my daughter to have someone she can go to in her time of need that speaks absolute sense and as she will more than likely not want that to be her father, you would be the next best thing. Claude and I were agreed before Ynes was even born that you were the only choice for god-mother. You have been a good friend to Claude, and I also do it in remembrance of your late husband. I should have chosen Fabien as god-father to my first child if he had not been taken so soon, so it's only fitting that you accept."

Amorette felt sick with nerves. How on earth was she to live up to all of that? Whilst she greatly appreciated everything that Sacha had said, it didn't really sink in. She couldn't believe they would think her the only choice but the unrelenting stare in his eyes told her it was not a point to argue upon. Ynes was an adorable child that Amorette cherished and she supposed it would be her privilege to watch the young girl grow up, and to be there for her when she did not feel that she could speak to her parents on some matters. Marrying Fabien had shown her that she had to start letting people in, and here was another wonderful opportunity.

At last she realised just what Claude and Sacha were giving her, and what it meant to them both to have Amorette so close to their daughter she knew there was no way she could refuse. They were placing a lot of trust and expectation upon her shoulders to help them bring up their daughter the right way, and she was going to endeavour to exceed those expectations. Tears rolled freely down Amorette's cheeks as she crossed the room to throw her arms around Sacha's shoulders. He chuckled lightly, slightly taken aback by her happy tears.

Amorette realised very quickly though that she was being silly in sobbing like a child so openly. "I'm sorry for being such a mess," she mumbled as she turned away from him to try and wipe away her tears with the ends of her sleeves.

"Don't be ridiculous," laughed Sacha as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'm just glad it means so much to you. I knew as soon as Fabien died that I wanted to do something for you, to give you purpose again and this seemed the perfect option. I know you struggled for a little while to get back to normality after his death but that's normal. I hope this kick starts something within you that reminds you that it's okay to live your life! Fabien wouldn't want you wallowing in self-pity, he'd want you to find happiness again. Why do you think he left all of his work in your charge? He saw something in you Madam that was very special indeed. I think there was something within him that knew you would always do right by him, and that included his work and look at just what you have done. The last ever book of his work is a roaring success, because it was put together by you with love and care. He wanted you to know that love and remember it, but not to let it shut you away. You are as free as you ever were before you met him, perhaps even more so."

Amorette couldn't speak for crying again and waved her hands at Sacha to stop, sure that she couldn't bear to hear any more. She was saved though by the resounding four knocks upon her door. She glanced behind her towards the windows with a gasp as she realised just how late it was. Before she could give any warning, Athos stepped through the door and stood in her parlour. He glimpsed them through the doorway and emerged into the dining room, his eyes immediately drawn to Amorette's tear-stained face.

"Athos," Sacha announced before the musketeer could say anything. "What brings you here so late?"

Athos hesitated in his reply, looking from Amorette to Sacha slowly. "There's a matter I would speak with the Cometess about, if she's agreeable."

Amorette nodded solemnly and tried not to stifle a laugh at Athos' awkwardness. "Monsieur Rouzet has come from Weston's trial," she commented as a way to sooth the tension.

"Yes I heard that ran on quite late." Athos shifted nervously where he stood and Sacha seemed to take that as his queue to leave.

"Madam, thank you for your time, and please don't tell Claude I told you. She will want to make a rather public announcement I'm sure. I wanted you to be aware of it though. I'm very glad you've accepted." Sacha turned to leave, and Amorette saw Athos sigh in relief just before the lawyer seemed to remember something else and turned back around. "Oh and Madam, don't worry too much about the other matter we spoke of. I meant what I said, Jerome Weston will never be in any position of power in France or England ever again."

"At least not openly," Amorette muttered apprehensively to Sacha's retreating back.

They both held their breaths until the door closed firmly shut before finally allowing themselves to look at each other properly. "Are you alright?" Athos asked as he moved closer.

Amorette rubbed her tired eyes and cupped a hand over her mouth to hide her laugh even as she let a few more tears escape. "I'm going to be a god-mother!"

Athos smiled warmly at her, a sight she had grown so used to seeing over the last few months that it dried up her tears completely. It was an expression that she knew was reserved only for her when they were entirely alone. It made her feel special, that she had been able to bring about such a change in the gruff and surly soldier and instilled a strange sense of belief in her. He also made her feel warm and safe with only that. "I thought that might happen," he mused as he pulled her against his chest.

"I didn't even have an inkling," Amorette murmured into his doublet. In fact, it's taken me quite by surprise."

"Yes I can see that," Athos said with a chuckle.

"How am I ever to live up to their expectations," She questioned as she drew away enough to look up at him. "Sacha said such kind things, but …" Amorette let the sentence trail away from her as she turned to look at the rain outside. Sacha said such kind things because he meant them, not because he was setting her up for a fall. He believed she would do the best she could. She threw a grin at Athos. "Do you know; I'm going to be the best god-mother that there ever was."

 _ **Finally some nice things happening for Amorette!**_


	42. Chapter 42

_**So, we finally find out the complete story about Marie in this chapter!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

 _"The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters."_

 _Sirius Black, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban._

The pelting October rain bore down in sheets, covering the city streets of Paris in a glistening extension of the Seine. People darted here and there on short journeys to fetch their necessary supplies and rushed home again, eager to be out of the torrent of cool rain. Despite her traveling cloak and hat, Amorette was soaked through to the skin; and not out of willingness. She tugged on Baxter's reins desperately as droplets of rain rolled down her face and into the hollow between her breasts. The horse had been behaving oddly for a week or two, and Amorette was coming to the conclusion that the horse would soon no longer be rideable. She had ventured out on errands earlier in the morning before the rain had begun, and had envisioned visiting Marie before she returned to the Louvre. Now though, it appeared that she would be going nowhere fast.

Baxter had taken the notion to come to a standstill in the Latin Quarter of the city and it was all Amorette could do not to scream at him to move onwards. The option of leaving her horse seemed futile to Amorette as she would only force upon herself the walk across the river in the rain, but she quickly supposed that she was getting just as wet here fighting with Baxter's reins. She tugged again but her horse wasn't for moving and Amorette wondered just what it was that had spooked her horse in such a way. The deserted street brought no help to her, and Amorette wondered if she could make for the garrison a few streets away and return with help. Knowing her luck though, Baxter would take her short absence as his excuse to finally move. Pulling on the reins was becoming futile as the earth beneath her boots was quickly growing to resemble a thick muddy concoction.

Baxter kicked up his hooves suddenly and despite the splatter of mud that landed on her dress and face, Amorette felt relief that he was finally making movement. That died quickly though as she realised he really didn't have any intention of moving. Perhaps her horse thought mud splatter would drive her to leave him alone. Movement at the end of the street caught her eye. Two figures walked against the rain, bound in leather cloaks and hoods. Amorette called out to them, hoping they would hear her over the sound of the downpour. The taller of the two turned sharply to glance at her. Amorette strained her eyes to see the figure through the rain, noting that a familiar chin jutted out of the shadow of the hood. For a second they looked towards each other before the figures carried on walking with a little more haste than before. Amorette stamped her foot in indignation and was about to let out a growl of annoyance when the other figure, now being pulled along by the first turned to glance at her.

Despite the grey ambiance the rain had created, Amorette was clearly able to discern the strawberry blonde tendrils of hair that fell loose of the hood. "Marie?" Amorette cried as the reins slipped from her hands and she took a few steps away from Baxter towards the figures. Both turned to glare at her again before they broke into a run. An icy cold dread began to form in Amorette's stomach that had nothing to do with the rain.

"Cometess?"

Amorette whipped around to greet the voice that had echoed behind her and found Aramis gently stroking her horse's mane. Baxter was responding to his touch, seeming to appreciate the careful gesture and Amorette spared the horse a sharp thought of anger before her mind drifted back to the two figures who had run from her.

"Is he still giving you trouble?" came another voice as Athos emerged from the other side of Baxter.

Amorette nodded, not trusting herself to speak lest her teeth might chatter.

"How could this graceful creature cause any trouble eh?" Aramis asked, more to the horse than anyone else. Gently he took the reins and tugged lightly and Baxter began to follow.

"Well that's just ridiculous!" Amorette snarled. "I've been stuck here unable to get him to move for the best part of an hour in this horrid weather!"

Athos gave a rueful smile as he too turned to watch Aramis gain ground with the horse. "Perhaps our resident horse whisperer can guide him back to the stables for you?"

"There's no whispering about it," muttered Aramis. "He simply needs a firm hand to get his nerves in check."

"Something's obviously spooked him but I can't for the life of me tell you what it could have been," said Amorette as she moved forward to gently pat Baxter's back.

Aramis threw her a thoughtful glance. "You're sure there's been nothing?" Amorette shook her head. "Then perhaps he was picking up on your own uneasiness Cometess? Great animals like this are want to do so."

It was a mark of how worried Amorette was by the two figures running from her a few seconds before that she couldn't manage to school her face to answer in the negative. A single raised eyebrow of Athos' was enough to tell Amorette that he wasn't taking their conversation lightly. Amorette knew she was defeated as the two musketeers stopped moving, and her horse was once again stationary in the rain. They waited with baited breath as Amorette decided how much or how little to tell them. Her hesitance only made the atmosphere between the three of them more tense. Athos stepped closer with a look that might almost have been pain gracing his face for a few seconds as he tried to lock eyes with her.

"You know that help I mentioned a while ago?" Amorette asked. "I think I might need to call upon it now."

The Rue Perdue, much like the rest of Paris that day was completely deserted. Athos and Amorette stopped a few yards from the door of Buckingham's secret lodgings and glanced around them. Aramis was no longer with them, having decided to walk Baxter to the stables. Turning back to the doorway, it was a few seconds before Amorette realised that it was ajar. In her mind she hoped and prayed that Marie and Neville had simply been running to get out of the rain and hadn't seen her clearly. She knew that there was little chance of that though. They had seen her, and had run from her. Amorette wanted more than anything to find them both within the lodgings but something told her that she was never going to see them again.

Together she and Athos crept inside the lavish apartment that looked like a hovel to outside eyes. There was a still coldness in the air that told them both that no fire had been lit in the rooms that day. Everything seemed to be in its place, with nothing untoward. Amorette dashed into the back rooms, calling out for Marie as she went. It was when she reached the girl's bedchamber that her fears were confirmed. The bed had been stripped of the counterpane and the drawers lay open and empty. There was no hint whatsoever that the girl had ever been there, apart from the gentlest scent of her perfume. Amorette kicked out at an empty trunk in frustration; following with a whimper when a sharp pain in her foot registered.

She jerked backwards and returned to the parlour as Athos called her back. Just as she re-entered the room he plucked a folded piece of parchment from where it sat on the mantelpiece and offered it to her. "it's addressed to you."

Amorette hesitantly took the parchment from him and tore it open to find Marie's untidy scrawl before her.

 _Amorette,_

 _I want you to know firstly how grateful I am to you for the friendship and aid you have bestowed upon me most willingly. I could never have dreamed to find such a steadfast friend in a Frenchwoman. Without you I would still be trapped in Madrid with no prospect of any sort of life at all. Without you, I would never have met Captain Neville. Both of you showed me such kindness and respect and that is something that I am not accustomed to. You believed my story without any doubt and couldn't try any harder to have my voice heard._

 _When all else failed, you also ensured my safety. You and Neville are surely the two best people that anyone could ever hope to meet. Secondly, I wish you to know how very sorry I am. I know you wanted me to be introduced to the Queen, and to tell her of my parentage but I would not have been allowed to leave as you promised I would. I am under no illusions that despite your best efforts, I'd have been forced into a life that I never wanted. Despite all that I still did not wish to leave you. I've never known my mother, and I suppose I have come to look upon you as a mother figure. I owe you and Neville both so much, and I hope one day you will understand my reasoning. You see, you are the dearest friend to me, but I love Neville. I think I know you well enough now to know that you'll not blame me for making such a choice in leaving with him. You yourself know what that all-consuming love is like; to not be able to even know your own mind because your every thought is for someone else. I know that you will find comfort in our happiness. We do not leave because we want to run from our responsibilities, but because we want to be together!_

 _In time I hope you can forgive me for leaving without saying goodbye, or of saying any of this to your face but I do not think I could look upon you again whilst you cried. I saw how hurt you were to be apart from the man that you loved and that to me gave me the ultimate answer. I've tried to fight the feelings I have for Neville though I doubt you will believe it but seeing you hurting so much made me realise it was foolish to think of living my life without Captain Neville. He and I are happy together and I do not want you to worry about me. Neither does Neville._

 _I don't know how long it will take you to find this letter, but when it does I hope it does not sadden you too much. We do not actually know where our travels will take us, but we are certain in our love for one another and that in itself should reassure you. In truth I am excited to discover what our lives will be!_

 _I want to convey again how grateful I am to you Amorette. I hope that you never forget how much I appreciate the love and friendship you showed me because it really is quite special and so are you. If my sister the Queen is anything at all like you, then I am sure she is a wonderful woman. The torrid secret of a bastard sister could only be bad to the reputation of such a woman!_

 _So I bid you adieu my little friend. I would happily write more but Neville tells me we have little time left. I do wonder if we shall ever meet again someday in the future. One does hope you will have finally grown a little by then!_

 _Your friend forever,_

 _Marie Hernandez._

Marie had signed her letter cleverly, using her father's name which was not something that she often did. Amorette let herself sink back onto the couch behind her as hot tears rolled down her cheeks. Athos was still stood by the fireplace watching her carefully.

"Oh this is all my fault," she grumbled as she pulled a handkerchief out to dry her tears.

Athos shook his head, not understanding the severity of the situation. "The girl you wanted to follow; if you still wish to do so we should go now."

It was Amorette's turn to shake her head. "No. We cannot follow her now. Perhaps I might have if I had not read her letter but I think the right thing to do is let her go."

"I don't understand any of this," Athos muttered as he took of his hat and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's my fault. I drove her away because I introduced her to a man." Amorette let out a wry chuckle even as tears still welled in her eyes. "But who am I to tear her away from the man that she loves? She has done no wrong. She deserves happiness."

Athos moved closer, his bewildered expression still present. "Are you going to tell me what all of this is about Madam; or do I have to create a whole suggestion of a scenario in my head?"

"I'll tell all of you together if you can wait until we reach the garrison. I don't want to keep re-telling the story."

Amorette stood up and stuffed her handkerchief into a pocket of her dress, noticing as she did so that her cloak was dripping rainwater onto the floor. Before she could move any further though, Athos drew her into his arms and for a moment the wet surface of his doublet against her cheek didn't even bother her as she felt his warm breath on the top of her head.

Baxter seemed to be resting peacefully in the stables of the garrison, and Amorette began to ponder again what it was that was making him act so oddly. Finally, out of the rain, she took up position of the window seat in Treville's office that she had occupied before, but this time Athos sat down beside her.

Treville stood behind his chair and turned it to face Amorette before he sat. "What is all of this about then Cometess?"

Amorette looked around at them all as they stared at her expectantly. Strangely, this time she was glad to feel Athos' arm just brushing hers as they sat alongside one another. The warmth that radiated from him served to remind her that what she had done and the secrets that she had kept had been for the benefit of a friend. Amorette did not expect the warmth to remain, however. She knew how Athos felt about her keeping secrets from him and this was only going to add to that long list. She hoped though, somewhere deep down inside her that their newly found closeness would stand her in good stead. Perhaps he would simply take everything that she was about to tell him at face value and consider it all rationally.

"I suppose to make this as understandable as possible I must start at the beginning," she mused quietly. She was entirely unable to glance in Athos' direction, but the shrewd stare that Treville was directing her way was unnerving and Amorette suddenly found an area of slightly plucked, wet material of her skirts very interesting in that moment. She continued to talk into her lap, not willing to witness the strange and confused glances she was to receive in a few seconds time. "When I was in Madrid I made the acquaintance of a young woman called Marie. For a while I knew very little about her at all, except that she was under some sort of house arrest in the Buen Retiro Palace. Before I knew the truth, I did know she was important in some way, a political prisoner perhaps? She was treated well enough and never wanted for anything on the surface, but the girl was watched day and night by the King of Spain's spies. She was practically still a child, and yet someone was hovering over her shoulder at all times. I never saw so myself, but I heard from others that when she put a foot wrong there were terrible consequences for her. It was only as the royal family went on their summer progress and left her behind that I truly became acquainted with her and found out who she really was."

"And who was she really?" D'artagnan asked, ever eager to hear more.

Amorette sucked in a breath and looked up at the youngest musketeer. Her eyes settled upon his own brown ones as she spoke the words she had promised not long ago never to utter. "She is the Queen's sister; half-sister that is. They share a mother."

Everyone looked scandalised, all except Treville. Amorette knew that he would probably find every fault with her story and disbelieve it entirely no matter what proof she brought to the table. "Cometess do you know how many stories like this I have heard over the years? Although I usually hear it from the _'sister'_ herself."

"Captain I am not asking you to believe me. Circumstances have changed now, and it matters not what you think of what I'm telling you any-more. I did see Marie's proof for myself. I saw many documents and letters that prove her lineage and place her father in the right place to have had relations with her mother. Most of all though, it was her appearance that convinced me. She and the Queen bare an uncanny resemblance to one another."

Aramis was shaking his head incredulously. "Then why did this girl not come forward if there was every chance that she would be believed?"

"She was scared," Amorette muttered. She glanced back to Treville and his expression had not changed. "I understood her fear. When she realised that I was French she was begging me for help even before she knew that I was a confidant of the French Queen. In Madrid they all knew exactly who she was and what she could do. They wanted to smother her out of existence slowly, like a secret that never even was. No one wanted the truth to get out because she posed a threat to the Spanish King's rule. Having an English father, I am not ignorant of the tale of the two boys in the tower. Edward IV's sons and heirs were placed in the tower of London for their _'safety'_ and their Uncle Richard of Gloucester usurped the throne from the eldest. There were a few sightings of the boys in the gardens or at windows, but in time those began to grow rather thin until there was no trace of them at all and all of their servants had been dismissed. Those two boys died in the tower, there's no doubt of that in many minds."

"What has that got to do with anything?" Porthos queried.

D'artagnan was the one to answer. "Cometess, you thought she'd be killed if she stayed there; and that was what confirmed your suspicions about who she was?"

"Exactly!" Amorette replied with a small smile. "I knew they would kill her. She was pleading with me day after day to help her. I didn't really know how. When I became aware of my departure date she grew more anxious, desperate for me to bring her with me. I was reluctant because it would be dangerous for not only us but for her too. If we were caught hustling her out they would kill all three of us!"

"Three?" It was the first time Athos had spoken and Amorette felt the burn of his cobalt blue gaze upon the side of her face.

It took her a few seconds to pluck up the courage to glance towards him. "Yes, three. Captain Neville of the Red Guards was in Madrid also. The Queen had sent him to act as some sort of protection for me but he didn't blend in very well. He took to staying elsewhere in Madrid and we would meet outside the Palace to converse. I discussed Marie with him and he too felt that it was far too much of a risk to try and take the girl with us so we agreed that we would come back to Paris and try to set up some sort of scheme to get her out. I didn't very much like the thought of leaving her though. We knew there was every chance that she could have been dead upon our return. On the night that I collected those letters for the Queen, Neville and I changed our plans at the last minute. We cleverly devised a way for Marie to slip away to bed early, leave her watcher behind and come and meet us.

"If I'm honest I'm still not entirely clear about the events of that night. I let Neville handle Marie whilst I fetched the letters and tried to make my escape. It was chaos though. Men were giving chase and I thought I'd never reach the meeting point we had arranged. As you already know I was wounded slightly and that seemed to throw them off my scent. They left me for dead and hurried on, searching for other conspirators no doubt. What they didn't know was that Neville and Marie had already left the Palace and waited in the gardens. I don't know why this thought is in my head, because I saw and heard nothing clearly that night, but I think my father was there."

"Why does that not surprise me," Athos growled.

Amorette forgot herself for a split second and covered his hand with hers to try and alleviate the anger that she began to sense. The gesture was noticed by all others in the room and Amorette hastily tore her and away as soon as she realised what she had done. She grimaced as Athos gave her a wary look. The others would have perhaps thought nothing of it if she had kept her hand in place as the comforting gesture of a friend. Her quick reaction to flee though said everything about their closeness.

"I think my father orchestrated it all, and told the Spanish that there was a French spy in their midst. None of that matters in regards to Marie's story though. I met Neville at the meeting point just outside the Palace and he got us out of there. I couldn't leave her behind, not after everything that she had told me." Amorette stared around at them all and it was only Treville who she could read clearly. His disbelief was obvious. "What can I say," she said with a shrug. "The girl tugged on my heartstrings. She was so lonely and she wanted to be reunited with her sister. She had no family in Madrid with her mother and father dead, and her only hope was to plead with the Queen of France for her life. She would surely die in Madrid; we could give her a chance to live."

Athos scratched his bearded chin thoughtfully. "Does the Queen know about any of this?"

Amorette shook her head. "No she does not. When Marie got across the border into France I thought that was it. I thought we were safe and that she would begin her new life. She was still frightened though. She was worried about being introduced to the Queen. What if her sister didn't believe her; or did believe her and saw her as a threat? Either way she would end up dead. She knew she was the bastard daughter of a Queen who was long dead. She doubted herself so much but I think it was Neville really that had her stalling all of this time. I knew there was some form of connection there but I thought once we reached Paris and he returned to his occupation; that the time apart would place distance between them. The bond only grew stronger though and I didn't see any way to stop it. A while ago, around the time of all that business with Jerome Weston she told me she was ready to meet the Queen. I didn't believe her but she asked for a week to get her affairs in order. That week came and went, then two…four. I think in my heart of hearts I knew that it just wasn't what she wanted any more. She left with Neville this morning. When I first saw them out there in the rain I knew it, but I kidded myself that they'd simply gone for a stroll and I'd find them when I went to her lodgings. The letter confirms it all though."

Amorette passed the now damp letter to Aramis and in turn they all read it though in silence. Athos had already perused it on their way back to the garrison and Amorette had the strange sense that even if he pretended not to, he believed every word that she had said.

Treville sighed heavily as he read the letter and handed it to Porthos. "Cometess I have no reason to believe that you would lie about this, and you give your account so simply and precisely that I do believe that you are a believer in this girl's story, but without the proof I am of course going to have my suspicions that this girl duped you and Captain Neville-"

Porthos interrupted with a snort. "Fell in love with a Red Guard? I didn't think that was possible. I didn't think they had hearts!"

"Is that all that you got from that letter?" cried D'artagnan indignantly. Swiftly he glanced up at Amorette. "I think this letter says all we need to know. I believe you Cometess."

Amorette offered him a small smile even as thoughts of defending Neville launched through her head. "Neville is a good man Porthos. His commission in the Red Guards does not define him as a bad person. I'm sure Captain Treville has seen one or two musketeers who have not been entirely good over the years."

"There have been a few," the musketeer captain mused quietly.

"That's because the world isn't made up of good and bad people Porthos. Men aren't divided into good and bad and then enlisted in the musketeers or Red Guards respectively. Neville could have taken those letters in Madrid and gone off with them. He was tasked above all else with getting the letters back to France even if it meant leaving me behind. He didn't though, he waited. He waited far longer than he should have for me, and didn't bat an eyelid when I showed up half dead. He carried me on one arm and a hysterical and terrified Marie on the other and got us out. If that isn't a good man, then I don't know what is. You've brawled with him in the street over nothing countless times; that makes me angry you know!"

Porthos huffed and accepted a gracious defeat. Treville quickly took back the reins of the conversation. "Do we tell the Queen of this Cometess?"

Amorette violently shook her head. "We cannot. Marie was the proof. Without her and her letters it's just a story; a story that would likely get me locked up for telling it." Amorette stepped briskly forward and snatched the letter from Porthos. Swiftly she held it above the lone candle burning on Treville's desk and let the letter curl into ashes. "It's also the only way to ensure Marie's safety, wherever she ends up. If she changes her mind, she knows where I am." She threw Athos a wry smile then added, "It's not as if I'm going anywhere is it?"

Unbelievably; where Amorette had expected to see only a stoic stare beneath the brim of his hat, Athos offered her a warm grin.

"Has something happened between you two?" Aramis blurted. "Coy looks here, furtive hand touching there; you're like a pair of teenagers!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Amorette chuckled even as she felt her cheeks burn red. "What a notion Monsieur Aramis!"

"Of course, how foolish of me. I forgot that you two have hearts of stone where each other is concerned, Madam Desrosiers."

Amorette blanched as she realised what Aramis had just done in using her married name. "That's not fair," she murmured.

"No, it wasn't. I'm sorry," offered the marksman with a guilty smile.

Athos stepped forward as Amorette stuffed her soaking wet hat back onto her head with a soft "ugh."

Amorette felt his hand gently placed against the small of her back as Porthos guffawed. "A notion indeed!" he cried. "Five Livre says there's a lot more going on than coy looks and hand touches Aramis! In fact, far more than we dare think-"

Athos shoved Porthos' shoulder roughly for his trouble and the great man fell forwards in his chair as he stifled a laugh. Amorette was sure that her face now resembled a ruby red tomato. "I should get back to the Palace, I'm expected there," she mumbled; very aware that all eyes were upon her and Athos.

"I'll walk you!" he announced from behind her as Amorette turned and made her way towards the door.

Athos threw his friends a disapproving look as he grabbed his own hat. "Not another word," he snarled at Porthos as he made his way past. When he turned away from them though, he couldn't help the natural smile that grew there. He met Amorette at the bottom of the steps and together they set off into the streets. He stole furtive glances at her as they walked but she didn't return them.

Eventually, Amorette snapped. "Why do you keep looking at me like that Athos?"

"I just wonder why you didn't tell me all of that about Marie. You know you can trust me."

Amorette sighed as they made their way along the Rue St Honoré, dodging the many puddles that the rain had created. "I know I can trust you, but we've been through all of this before. Marie asked me not to speak of it. Now that you understand the subject matter, surely you can see why I had to keep it to myself." Athos stopped where he stood and Amorette turned to face him. "Oh what now? If you want to have another argument with me then I'm not inter-"

Athos placed a hand either side of Amorette's face and leaned down to kiss her before she could say anything more. For a few seconds she was shocked at the open display as the brims of their hats jostled for position with one another. Athos kissed her tentatively, somehow aware that she felt anxious kissing in public. He didn't seem to care though, and he was the one with more to lose. His tongue danced across her bottom lip, seeking entrance. Amorette felt a low sigh escape her mouth into his as she suddenly gave in and sagged against him, letting her lips part so he could kiss her fully. She flung her arms around his neck as he pulled her chin up higher to meet him.

 _Was there anything more liberating than knowing that the man she had loved all her life might just love her in return?_ Amorette was lost in him, the smell of his leather doublet, the scratching of his beard against her own chin, the movement of his arms as they wrapped themselves around her waist. Everything around them seemed to fall away in just a few seconds so that they were no longer standing on a main thoroughfare of Paris with the raindrops tumbling down.

 _Why else would he attempt such an open display of affection; other than as proof of his love?_ Reluctantly both of them pulled away slightly as a rumble of thunder broke their tryst. They grinned at each other guiltily as Athos took her hand in one of his. "We should get you out of this rain."

He pulled her along with him, entering the palace grounds through the Jardin des Tuileries and propelling her along ahead of him along the path as the rain grew heavier still. It was as they reached the entrance hall that Amorette glimpsed the carriages that had arrived outside in the courtyard.

Athos wrapped an arm around her waist from behind. "I completely understand why you did what you did to conceal the girl," he whispered into her ear. His closeness sent shivers down Amorette's spine that told her their affectionate embrace would have carried on further in her own rooms had she not at that second seen the crest of arms upon the carriage door through the window. "I felt every word that Marie wrote in that letter. You were a true friend to her as you are to everyone in this world. I meant what I said before. It's what is in your heart that truly defines you as a person."

The duke of Buckingham hurled himself through the door, shaking his black hair of water as he did so. He stopped short when he saw Amorette, the arm around her waist now conspicuously absent. Athos was now a few steps behind her and Amorette turned and gave him a small smile of thanks as he turned on his heel and left her alone with another of her oldest friends.

She took a deep breath and bravely uttered, "George, can we talk?"

 _ **Ohhh Buckingham's back! But will he forgive Amorette?**_


	43. Chapter 43

_**I only own Amorette.**_

For a few seconds Amorette was not sure if Buckingham heard her. He was looking anywhere but at her face and she thought he might turn on his heel and walk away from her.

"George," she repeated. "Please."

Her pleading seemed to strike a chord with him. He turned to glance over her sopping wet appearance as he considered what Amorette had asked of him. Eventually after a long pause he gave a single nod and Amorette felt relief racing through her. She ascended the staircase, glancing back every so often to ensure that he still followed.

As was to be expected on such a horrid day, the upper floors of the Louvre were packed with bored courtiers milling around in wait of the rain stopping. Buckingham garnered the usual stares and mutters as he marched along in Amorette's wake but he seemed as unaffected as he ever was by it all. Amorette paid little heed to it all as she was thankful that those judgemental glances never fell onto her own shoulders any more. At length they reached the ladies corridor and Amorette admitted her friend into her own rooms.

She slipped off her hat and gestured to the side table. "There's brandy. I know how you don't drink the wine here so I got it specially for you."

Amorette wasn't sure what she saw in his expression and unclipped the clasp that held her cloak in place. She let it slip off her shoulders and the water laden material fell to the floor with a thud. Buckingham was pouring himself a brandy, but he glanced up at the sound. "Good God you're soaked through Amorette!" He cried. Abandoning his glass of Brandy, he raced towards her and began to pull on the lace strings of her dress. "You need to get these wet things off now before you catch your death of cold! How long have you been wondering about like this for?"

Within seconds Buckingham had helped Amorette strip out of her dress and underskirts until she was standing in just her shift and corset. She couldn't help smiling softly though as Buckingham rung the bell for a fire to be lit and ushered her into her bedchamber. Despite his cold greeting to her and his lack of letters over the last months, he still cared for her. His actions over the last few minutes had proved that much.

When Amorette had dried herself off and dressed again in dry clothes she returned to the parlour to find Buckingham on his second glass of brandy. He handed her a glass of the brown liquid as she rounded the couch and perched next to him. She gulped the liquid down greedily, feeling the warmth begin to spread from it all over her body. They sat in silence until the fire was lit and only when the door closed behind the steward did Amorette dare to speak.

"I know you are no doubt still upset about what happened some months ago George, but I'm afraid I have no other explanation than what I gave to you then. I am sorry if you have been hurt or offended by anything that I've said or done but I am not sorry that I did what was in my opinion the right thing."

For what felt like an age Buckingham stayed silent and Amorette wasn't sure what he was going to say. Still staring into the fire, he finally made a sound as he cleared his throat before speaking. "Of course I was upset. Those men were my friends and peers; some of them even family. You readily handed them over to the French authorities. At the time I blamed you for not thinking of my feelings, but now I understand a little bit more why you did what you did. I keep forgetting I suppose that your allegiance will always be to France. Your father's treatment ensured that before anything else ever did. Surely you can understand why I would be confused though. You see you have many English friends and family still, and I do not believe you would wish them ill."

"Of course I don't!" Amorette cried indignantly. "I don't see the world as an atlas, with my only allies marked out clearly upon a map of France. But George, those men were not my allies and they were not yours either. They would have started a war that neither of our countries need. France is still at war with Spain and from what I have heard, England is turning upon itself from the inside out. That is where those men's concentration should be!"

Buckingham sighed heavily. "I know that now Amorette. But I saw red at first, and for a long while afterwards I was frustrated that you didn't tell me what you were planning. That still baffles me a little to be honest. I would never double cross you like that! I expected a little more of you if I'm honest. I thought you had more respect for our friendship than to treat me so! I am gaining a better understanding of it every day, but that takes time. You'll have to allow me to come to terms with it all slowly."

Amorette nodded, but she still thought there was a sense of expectance hanging in the air, as if her friend still expected her to beg his forgiveness. "George I meant what I said. I am not sorry that I gave those men's names to the King. I had to do something, and at that time it seemed the only way that justice could be exacted in any way."

Buckingham downed the rest of his brandy and for a second Amorette feared that he would slam the glass down on the table and get up to take his leave. He didn't though. Still holding the empty glass, he leaned back into the couch and sighed heavily. "In truth I am very tired Amorette. I am tired of chasing my errant so called friends around and attempting to catch everything that they knock over or drop. It's like living with a group of children with no level of intelligence whatsoever. The way they all go about things is so transparent that it all bores me now. They have no flare, no theatrical drive. If I were to concoct such a scheme myself, it would be the greatest in the world! I suppose in that respect they deserve to receive whatever punishment they may face just for their pure foolishness. You know I was against what they were doing. I just didn't want to condemn all of those men for their stupidity."

Amorette thought crimes far bigger than stupidity had been committed by Buckingham's friends but she stayed silent on the matter, sure that it was not the right time for such an outburst. It seemed she had her friend back in her life and whilst he may not trust her completely this time, she was not about to make it any worse and promised herself she would curb her tongue in his company. Buckingham fell silent too and they sat in silence once again for a long time, the brandy in the decanter decreasing rapidly. Eventually, when there was none left, Buckingham reached into his pocket and pulled out a sealed letter. Presenting it to Amorette, he seemed to be trying to gauge her reaction.

"I was asked to pass this on to you," he said as Amorette took the letter into her own hand. She stared down at her own name written in a spindly italic scrawl and felt a sudden jolt of apprehension. "By the look on your face I don't have to tell you who it's from."

Amorette turned the letter over in her hands, the seal confirming her suspicions. "Why on earth would Lyall Fitzgerald be writing to me? And what's more, why were you anywhere near him George? We were always opposed to Lyall and even though you and Henry have your issues I know that your thoughts have never wavered concerning his brother."

"I didn't intend to be in his company I assure you Madam. We happened upon one another during the crossing from England. I don't know what the letter contains, though it does worry me that he is writing to you. Whatever he asks of you, it cannot be good."

Amorette was still turning the letter over and over in her hands. Lyall was a cleverer man even than Buckingham; a Scot playing the Englishmen so very carefully and toeing the line liberally. He flouted authority in secret though. On the outside, the Fitzgerald men were all in support of the Stuart claim to the Scots and English thrones and it was only Henry who had made his own contradictive opinions known publicly. Henry was scorned and hated for his wish of reclaiming the Scottish crown from English hands but his brother was held in high esteem for his apparent support. Amorette and Buckingham knew that really, Lyall was much more trouble than his brother Henry would ever be.

Henry had been their good friend once. Amorette therefore felt a strange sort of pride that he had been so open in his opinions and fought for what he believed in. She suspected that even though Buckingham now counted Henry as an enemy and not agreeing with his beliefs, he still respected him greatly. Henry hid his beliefs from no one and it certainly seemed he had tried to take his protestations down the amicable route in the beginning. Whilst he did believe that ultimately violence was the only solution, it wouldn't be his first resort.

Lyall Fitzgerald on the other hand wasn't capable of having an amicable discussion if his life depended on it. He had never made any effort to get along with Henry's friends, setting himself apart from the circles his family moved in until necessity warranted that he integrate. He and Buckingham had not seen eye to eye from the first instance of their meeting and Amorette hadn't liked him much either. He was always arrogant and rude to everyone around him, with a penchant for making women feel uncomfortable around him. _'The Scottish Sleaze'_ they had called him behind his back, but even if he did know they spoke about him in such a way, he didn't seem to care. Eventually he stopped coming to the parties altogether and he wasn't missed. Just as Henry began to feel that he no longer shared his family's loyalty to the house of Stuart, Lyall too began to nail his colours to the mast. Wholly in support of the English he was popular in London and at English court but he was pulling the strings very cleverly. Both Amorette and Buckingham were almost certain that although both brothers wanted the self-same thing when it came down to it, they were not working together to achieve it. Now though, that might have changed.

Amorette knew that if she opened that letter, she might be letting out more than just words. She couldn't imagine that Lyall would write to her asking her to help Henry, and therefore she had no need to open it. She stuffed it into the pockets of her skirts and shrugged her shoulders at her old friend. "I'll open it later. I don't want to waste the time that we have together George. You know, I really did think that you might be done with me for good. I hated the thought of not having you in my life."

Buckingham nudged her playfully with his elbow. "I missed you too Amorette. I think we are perhaps ready to try and get things back on track now. I stayed away because I was still angry and I didn't want to say or do anything that might jeopardise our friendship. I know you think I don't care about you Amorette; that I'm not interested in your life at all but it couldn't be further from the truth! That's why I waited until I had sorted it all out in my mind."

"Oh enough of this!" cried Amorette. "If we're going to keep hammering away at the sympathetic apologies then we are going to have to fetch more Brandy!"

Buckingham grinned at her. "As much as that offer is inviting Madam, I should be off soon. There are a few things I need to attend to before night draws in." They had in fact been sitting together for most of the afternoon and whilst the sun was still far from setting, it had lowered a little in the sky.

The sound of creaking floorboards had them both jumping to attention before they remembered they were alone in the room. At once Amorette's eyes were drawn through the open door into her bedchamber. Someone was pacing the floor beyond the linen closet and there was only one person it could be.

She turned back to stare into Buckingham's suddenly apprehensive eyes. "I see the passageway is still in use." He murmured. Before Amorette could reply he spoke again. "How are things with the Queen?"

Amorette was very aware of just what his question meant. She sighed heavily, deciding how much she should give away before she spoke. "We are on friendly terms again, and I think she does mean well. I'll never work for her again of course, but I think she needs to have friends around her. She knows now that she can trust me, so I think she'll do anything to keep me onside."

"Keep it that way Amorette," he said grimly. "You don't want to end up like me, thrown out on my ear and hated by most if not all of Paris."

"Whatever did happen between you and the Queen in the end? You never did tell me?"

Buckingham sighed heavily and ran a hand through his thick black hair. "Honestly…she might have discovered one thing about me that she didn't like."

Amorette chuckled. "Only the one?" she teased playfully.

The only response he gave to her jibe was an eye roll. "I suppose this is something that I should have told you long ago as we are such good friends but I feel like speaking the words aloud almost marks them in history. I don't want my secret to be what I'm remembered for or to influence who people think I am as a person. It changes nothing because it's always been there. It's a side of me I've always readily understood, but I didn't think anyone else was ready for it. The Queen and I enjoyed frequent late night liaisons many years ago here in the Louvre, but when I let slip something about my personality it all fell apart. You see I explained to her that whilst I adored the female form and could have my pick of women, I also liked men too. She tossed me out of her bed and I was ordered to pack up and leave the next day. She never told anyone though."

Amorette sat in silence for a few seconds as the news sank in. She remembered Buckingham's flamboyance when she had first met him as a child and of how she had always thought him odd in some way. In her early teenage years, she had believed that he preferred the company of men in the bedroom, but that hadn't bothered her in the slightest. As he had said himself, nothing had changed. He was still her friend and it mattered not who he lusted after. He had never admitted it though, and as he grew into a young man he trailed after women all the live long day and Amorette was forced to put the suspicions to the back of her mind.

"I think I've always known," she murmured, "You greedy pig!"

For a split second she observed sheer relief form on his face and it almost broke her heart. How could he have thought she would judge him for it? Then he laughed euphorically, a glow forming beneath the skin of his face. "Why did you never say anything?"

"George it's none of my business if you want to be greedy and have your fill of men and women, it never was. None of that matters to me. We are friends, so close we are almost brother and sister! Even if I hated the idea of men lying together; which I don't, it would be none of my business to judge you. I firmly believe that everyone should live their lives how they want to. Just because I live mine one way doesn't mean you should conform to that!"

Buckingham grabbed her hand and squeezed, lifting his chin to kiss her swiftly on the cheek. "Brother and sister? Ugh, I think we should be more like cousins. That way if there ever comes a time when we are both bereft of love or lust and in dire need of-"

"George!" Amorette cried in warning as Buckingham roared with laughter.

"Siblings, cousins? It's all the same lying down Amorette?" he joked playfully. Amorette shook her head at his cheek and pulled away from him slightly to observe the Jardin des Tuileries through the window. The rain still poured down and there wasn't much chance she would be traipsing back to the garrison any time soon, so she would be alone that evening. "Is that how you think of Athos; as a brother?"

Amorette had thought the question a serious one but when she turned to look back at her friend and caught sight of his raised eyebrows, she swatted him on the arm. "That's not a fair question!"

Buckingham rubbed his chin in mock contemplation. "No, you certainly didn't look upon each other as a brother and sister should down in the entrance hall before. One might even go as far as saying you wanted to rip each other's clothes off!" Amorette's increasingly bright red complexion was all the answer her friend needed. "God you haven't have you; with a musketeer? How very rebellious for a Cometess of your standing!"

"No!" she cried. "At least not yet. He stays with me if he can, and we talk and kiss but nothing more has happened between us. I am glad of it, for I think such things take time. We both have things that we must overcome before we will be ready for all of that. I fear he will be ready sooner than I though."

"Why's that?"

"George I think he wants to have a really serious conversation about it all soon and Athos is not a man of many words. He will mumble and get flustered as will I and the whole thing will end in an awkward sorry mess!" Amorette bit her lip in worry as she watched Buckingham continue to grin at her.

"Come now Amorette," he said gently. "You've been married. You've had relations with a man, and you know how it all works. You and Athos have done a lot of talking together over the course of your lives, so just leave that at the door. When the time is right you will feel it, and then neither of you will need to tell one another. It will there between you like a great big elephant in the room!"

"I think there was an elephant down in that entrance hall," Amorette muttered.

"And I interrupted?" asked Buckingham. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, you did me a favour. I also think Athos wants to discuss money and my title and marriage and all that rubbish. I don't care about all of that, but I know it's bothering him. I think he wants to make sure that all of this is what I want."

"And what do you want Amorette?"

She sighed heavily. "I don't want what Athos thinks I want. He thinks because I have been married, that ultimately my end goal is to marry again. The truth is I only married to try and rid myself of the feelings that I had for him. Yes, years ago I wanted to marry him and have that life, but I was a child. We are both entirely different people now and all I want is to spend time with him, to have him by my side. I needed a lot of care and attention when I was younger, I know that now. Now I need only the simple things in life, if I know that he loves me and I love him in return that is entirely enough!"

"Then tell him," sighed Buckingham. "Tell him and then you can both attack each other like the rampant dogs you are!"

Darkness descended as Amorette perched on the chair that propped open the door that connected her room to the Queen's. the day had left her exhausted and she yawned frequently as the Queen presented her with a new haul of dresses that had been brought from the dress-makers that afternoon. It was the last thing Amorette needed to be doing, but somewhere deep down inside she felt sorry for the Queen who had little in the way of real friends. So, she had indulged the young woman when she had knocked on her door earlier. Now though, she was beginning to regret it. Propping open the door, with her shawl wrapped around her, Amorette wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed.

"Don't you think this is a little plain for tomorrow's parade though?" asked the Queen gently as she held up the bodice of yet another dress for Amorette to inspect.

Amorette knew how much her honesty would mean to the young Queen. She had people around her who constantly hid their opinions and lied to her because they were too afraid she wouldn't like their honesty. The reality was that was all that she wanted from people now, and Amorette no longer cared if the Queen didn't like what she had to say. "That is plain," she murmured. "In fact, if I were you I'd send that back for alterations. Send some of those new pearls with it and have them sewn on. They will go well with the mint green colour of the silk."

The Queen nodded as she folded the bodice and placed it into a trunk and fetched the pouch of pearls to place with it. "I'll send them tomorrow morning, but that still leaves me with the dilemma of what to wear?"

"What is the King wearing?" Amorette asked tiredly.

"Red I think…" came the reply amid a loud rustling of material.

"Red on a Sunday?" Amorette cried incredulously. "Isn't that a little bold considering the circumstances he's been dealing with recently?"

"His Majesty does what he wishes, and who are we to argue with it."

Amorette scratched her chin in thought as she glanced around the Queen's rooms and the bits and pieces of clothing strewn everywhere. "We don't need to argue with it," she said as she suddenly shot up from her seat and entered the Queen's chambers, pulling her shawl tighter around her as she went. "We need to embrace it. Wear this!" Amorette plucked up the bodice of a red and burnt orange dress. "Dress to match and show a united front. The idea of Red on a Sunday may be ludicrous but if that's what we've got to work with, then work with it we will." Amorette rummaged in a trunk and pulled out a cream and gold velvet brocade set of underskirts and a red mantle that matched the bodice.

Just as she laid them all out together on a couch she sneezed. "Oh no," she muttered.

"Have you caught cold?" asked the Queen. "heavens, and I'm keeping you from your bed!"

The Queen grabbed Amorette's arm to guide her back towards her own rooms, but just as they reached the passage that linked the two rooms, the sound of a door clicking closed startled them. Amorette thought she had locked her own doors behind Buckingham when he had left earlier. Both women peered around the door frame into Amorette's dark bedchamber. Footsteps could be heard coming from the parlour, and suddenly Athos emerged through the parlour door. He didn't even flinch when he caught sight of the Queen.

A soldier standing in the doorway of her bedchamber, no that didn't look bad at all! Before Amorette could speak though to try and cover for them both, the Queen turned her intuitive eyes upon Athos. "Athos? What are you doing here at this time of night?"

Athos didn't flinch, yet again. "Letters, your majesty." He turned knowing eyes upon Amorette as if she was expected to know what that meant. "As you may know, the Cometess and I share many mutual friends. As I was sending letters of my own with a messenger out into the country, I thought to offer to send the Cometess' along with them."

With the spark finally igniting in Amorette's befuddled mind, she rushed into the room. "Yes, letters." She rummaged around in a drawer for a few seconds before procuring what was really a folded piece of blank parchment. She sealed the empty letter with wax and presented it to Athos, who borrowed a quill from the side table to write the address upon the front. "I've only just finished writing them."

Seeming satisfied, the Queen nodded her goodnight to Amorette and closed the door adjoining the rooms. Only when the key had turned in the lock did Amorette let herself sag against the wall in relief. Athos presented the pretend letter to her as she let out a nervous chuckle. "Do you think she suspects us?" he asked quietly.

Amorette let out another chuckle. "I don't really care!" she cried as she moved in to kiss him.

A blocked nose and slight fever were what woke Amorette the next morning. Lying on her side in bed, she groaned as she felt the tightness in her chest and the beginnings of a headache.

"I think you've caught a chill," muttered Athos from behind her as he draped an arm across her waist. "You should probably see a doctor."

"I'm fine," she grumbled even as she pulled the counterpane tighter around herself. Amorette closed her heavy eyelids again and wished she still had some more time to waste in bed, but with Athos releasing the mattress of his weight to get up and dress Amorette knew she too would need to be up and about soon. She rolled over and watched as Athos fetched his doublet from a nearby chair and pulled on his boots. Groaning again, she sat up and blinked rapidly as the harsh grey daylight streamed into the room through a gap in the thick drapes.

"Shouldn't you stay in bed today; and let your cold run its course?" Amorette felt the mattress depress again as Athos took a seat on the end of it.

"I don't have a choice Athos. The parade is today, and I've had a dress made specially. The King and Queen will require all the support that they can muster after recent events don't you think?"

Athos sighed heavily as he brushed her hair gently out of her face. "I'm sure they can manage without a country Cometess who is ill and should be abed. Promise me you'll stay in bed and let yourself recover? For me; just for one day?"

Amorette shook her head in annoyance. Athos was looking at her in a way that told her he wasn't going to take no for an answer. "I won't say I agree with it at all but if it makes you happy, then yes I'll stay in bed."

Athos nodded his thanks to her and planted a swift kiss on her forehead before standing up to take his leave. "I'll come and look in on you later."

As the door swung closed behind him Amorette buried herself beneath the thick counterpane until it came up to her neck. Closing her eyes she wished for sleep to come again and it certainly would have come, if not for the sound of the door opening again a short while later.

Amorette glanced up to find Constance in the doorway, dress in hand. "Your new dress was sitting in the parlour. Your maid must have left it for you." Constance gripped one of the curtains and pulled it across, flooding the bedchamber in light. Amorette let out a groan as she brought up a hand to shield her eyes. Constance bustled about the room, arranging the dress on the couch and opening the other curtain, chatting happily as she went. "It looks to be an interesting day though. This parade is planned to precision but there are rumours that there will be a protest during it. I think quite a few people have tried to persuade the King and Queen that this parade is a fool's errand. I know Treville himself has encouraged them to cut the parade short if not cancel it altogether. They won't listen though. The King says that they must show a united and unwavering front in the face of any rebellion."

"Rebellion?" Amorette asked as she sat up abruptly.

Constance finally stopped to look at her properly, and her mouth fell open in a soft O shape. "Oh you don't look well at all Amorette. I'll take this dress away and inform the maître de cheval to assign another lady to your place in the parade."

Before Constance even had the time to turn back towards the door with the dress, Amorette had jumped up out of bed. "Nonsense! I'm perfectly fine, look! Bring that dress back!"

Swiftly Amorette's promise to Athos was forgotten as she dressed herself in a hurry and plucked her pale cheeks to bring some colour to them. Scared of missing something, Amorette was determined to take part in the parade, not least because so many people that she cared about would be there. If something were to go wrong, she wanted to be able to help. Above all else though, Amorette was curious. She knew that the King had recently made certain new indictments curtailing just how much of a pension that war veterans could receive. He had also made the decision that it was no longer feasible to provide aid to families of soldiers killed or severely injured in battle and these allowances had already been stopped.

Despite these redactions being an almost overnight decision, the people of Paris had already showed their distaste. Constance explained to Amorette as she dressed that men and women were beginning to line the streets in protest already, and that the parade was no longer expected to pass through the city peacefully.

By the time Amorette had dressed herself and she and Constance scuttled downstairs towards the Grande Galerie, most of the court had already assembled there. The heightened apprehension was apparent in the whispers and mutters that floated up towards the celing from the crowd. As they pushed through, Amorette vaguely noticed that the Duke of Buckingham wasn't there. Probably for the best, Amorette thought. Finding D'artagnan at the side of the vast hall, Amorette and Constance gave up trying to push to the front and joined him.

One or two more senior nobles were announced as they entered but no one paid any attention. All eyes were upon the King at the front of the room who was having a heated debate with his advisors. To Amorette it seemed clear that the King was not following the advice of the five men around them, judging by their aggravated and disturbed glares that they through him as he was ushered towards the far doorway to have his great cloak thrown over his shoulders. From there he would leave the room and descend the staircase out into the courtyard. The parade would take probably the best part of an hour to co-ordinate and the King wished to ensure that it was perfect. He would watch from astride his horse as the courtiers took their assigned places.

All at once the rustling of expensive fabric had all the women in the room turning to observe the new arrival. Amorette had not heard the announcement of her name over the din of whispers but walking tall and thin, with gently curling blonde hair and a slightly tanned complexion was a woman not much older than Amorette herself. Not knowing the woman, Amorette paid her little heed and turned back towards D'artagnan, but his concentrated glance was upon Athos, who stood on the other side of the room. Amorette watched him too, not sure what D'artagnan was looking for until the blonde woman veered off course altogether. Making a sudden sharp turn to walk towards Athos, she threw him a glorious smile and flicked her hair off her shoulder as she passed him. The cobalt blue eyes followed the woman in slight disbelief for a brief second before Amorette tore her eyes away. There was no use torturing herself.

It was only then that she noticed who stood in front of them a little. "Typical," muttered Aramis to Porthos. "You spend years pining for a decent woman and then two come along at once."

Porthos let out a bark of laughter even as Constance ran forwards to halt their conversation. The damage was done though and even Aramis' apologetic glance that he threw Amorette once he noticed she was there was not enough to placate her. Moving closer to D'artagnan who still stood at her side she whispered, "Who is _she_?"

He threw Amorette a blank expression and shook his head. "No one Cometess. Don't worry yourself over it."

"D'artagnan," Amorette let out a low growl. "Tell me who she is. She didn't smile at him like that for nothing."

The young musketeer let out a heavy sigh of defeat and leaned in towards Amorette's ear so that he could be heard clearly. "That is the Cometess Ninon de Larroque."

 _ **Ninon is back! I wonder if she will bring trouble for Athos and Amorette?**_


	44. Chapter 44

_**I only own Amorette.**_

"D'artagnan! D'artagnan!" The clatter of Amorette's heeled slippers against the tiled floor ricocheted around the room as she ran, but she paid no heed to the irritated glances that were thrown her way.

It was only when D'artagnan reached the top of the staircase in the entrance hall that he finally stopped and turned to face her. "Cometess?"

"I want you to tell me about this Ninon de Larroque. I take it that she and Athos have a history?" Amorette panted as she skidded to a halt before the young musketeer.

He shook his head as he leaned against the balustrade and Amorette almost couldn't bear the pity in his eyes. "If you can even call it that. We only knew her for a day or two, but it was years ago. She may have taken a particular shine to Athos, but nothing really developed. I thought you might have heard about it actually, but she had her title stripped from her and was sent to live a quiet life in the country."

"But if she hadn't gone to the country?" Amorette asked. "If she had stayed in Paris, title and all? Would she and Athos have continued to see one another?" D'artagnan scratched his chin in bewilderment. "I'm sorry, I know I'm bombarding you with questions that you feel you have no place answering but there's no point in me talking to Athos about this. He will just shut me out!"

"Cometess the truth is I don't know. All I know is that the Cometess de Larroque left, and Athos barely ever spoke of her again. I know you and he think you have been meeting in secret these last lot of months but the truth is quite a few of us knew. There's been a great change in Athos. It's the happiest I've ever seen him if I'm honest. Whatever happened in the past cannot change what is between you now. I think you have no need to be threatened." Amorette sighed dejectedly. She was trying to let D'artagnan's words sooth her, but there was a strange niggling thought in the back of her mind that wouldn't sway. "Are you heading to the stables Cometess? I'll walk you there."

D'artagnan offered his arm to her and Amorette accepted. "Why was her title stripped D'artagnan?" she asked as they began to descend the stairs.

He gave Amorette a wry grin then. "You know, you and she share quite a bit in common. She was living in Paris, using her town house as a school of sorts. She was tutoring young women regarding the sciences, philosophy and probably much more. On the face of it none of us saw any wrong doing there but the ideas she was putting into some of the women's heads were causing serious issues. Before I go any further Madam, you know that all four of us have a great respect for all women and hold you all in high esteem. There are boundaries though; lines that have yet to be crossed by womankind. Those young girls were being taught to think far ahead and above themselves in a world where it was not going to be accepted. I suppose it had to be stopped for their own safety really. Those young women were going to get into a lot of trouble spouting her words in Paris. One of them did die trying to petition the Queen."

Amorette stopped as they reached the door that led out into the courtyard. "Let me get this straight, she was stripped of her title and sent away simply for trying to help some young women?"

"There was more to it Madam," continued D'artagnan. "She was unmarried, with no intention to wed. She was impressing her beliefs upon those young women and although they willingly went to her, I think some were worried that they were not using their own minds to decide what they believed in." D'artagnan started walking again towards the corridor that led out to the stables. "Now, I hate this saying, but she did not know her place. She moved too hard and too fast in a world that wasn't ready for what she had to say. The cardinal sentenced her to death, had charges trumped up against her. They were going to burn her as a witch so that he could move higher within the catholic church. Athos persuaded him to stop it though. For a long time, everyone still thought her dead. The King recently returned her title and land to her though, on the condition that she does not start up any more schools."

"So she's just waltzing back into Paris then?" Amorette felt the niggle begin to return. This other Cometess was clearly a woman to be reckoned with.

"I don't think she's staying for very long. She and Athos did have a connection, but Aramis also befriended her on a religious level. She wrote to him not that long ago and told him about her good fortune and her visit to Paris." They were at the gates of the stables now, and D'artagnan turned to offer her a grin. "He was meaning to tell Athos but I guess it slipped his mind. He can't be blamed, especially as we see so little of Athos nowadays. He's with you most of the time."

With a wink D'artagnan left her there and wandered off towards where the King was discussing aspects of the parade with some musketeers. Her head even more frazzled than it had been when she woke with a headache, Amorette pushed open the stable gates and breathed in the unique smell of the straw and animals. She had sent a note to Léo earlier that morning when she had been getting ready, and he was waiting for her.

"I'm sorry Cometess, but there are no other horses available here. If you want I can go into the city in search of one for you? I don't think you should be riding Baxter when you're having so much trouble with him."

"He'll do for today," mumbled Amorette as she stepped forward to stroke her unruly horse's mane. "There's no time for you to go in search of another one Léo. I can't imagine there will be any trouble from him today though. We will all be traveling in formation. The presence of the other horses will no doubt sooth him."

Horse saddled and bridled, Amorette led him out into the courtyard where other courtiers were beginning to fall in line with the procession that was to parade through the city towards the Île de la Cité and the Notre Dame Cathedral. She mounted Baxter and waited as others fetched their horses or were bundled into carriages. Amorette noted it an oddity that the Queen also intended to ride in a carriage instead of on horseback alongside her husband. The carriages were reserved for the more elderly members of court if she recalled correctly. Perhaps there was another reason that the Queen did not want to ride. All women knew after all that horse riding could cause miscarriage if they were with child. Immediately Amorette began to observe the little that she could see of the Queen through the window of the carriage. Anne of Austria looked as she always had done, her lightly tanned Spanish skin pulled taught over high and dainty cheekbones with her golden hair woven into intricate braids and piled on top of her head. She looked as bright and healthy as ever, but nothing indicated that she might be with child from Amorette's vantage point. Seeing the lines start to jostle as everyone firmly took their places, Amorette decided to store the thought for later and let Baxter trot forwards to fall in line beside Constance and Claude.

D'artagnan was also nearby, although Amorette noted his change of demeanour now that he was resolutely on duty. He threw them a small smile as he observed the group around them and began to move on, but his eyes caught Amorette's as he did so. His gaze then flickered over her shoulder. Catching the hint; Amorette turned to find Ninon de Larroque only a few paces behind her on her own horse. The other Cometess was watching Athos intently.

"Oh my day just gets better and better," grumbled Amorette. Part of her wished she had chosen to ride elsewhere in the procession or perhaps even in the carriage with the Queen. Her uneasiness was settled a little though by the fact that Athos seemed oblivious to Ninon's avid attention.

When Amorette returned her gaze forward, Constance was gazing at her warily. "Are you really well enough to be riding Amorette?"

The only reply Amorette gave her friend was a discontented sigh as she settled her skirts over the horse's back. Knowing that Athos would catch sight of her soon and likely disapprove of her presence, Amorette resolutely kept her head facing forward so as not to catch his eye. Even if he wanted to send her back to her rooms he would have little chance of such a thing when the procession moved off.

The King's Maître du cheval began to bark orders to his men and the Red Guards who brought up the front of the procession. Everyone fell stiffly silent then, the courtyard of the Louvre palace a void of silence and a stark contrast to the din the party had made in the halls of the vast palace just a few moments before. The only sounds heard were that of the horses as they jostled a little, and of the standards and banners fluttering in the strong breeze. As the Fleur de Lis waved to them all from high above the crowd of courtiers and soldiers, Amorette regretted not wearing a warmer coat.

At length, they moved off, making their way down the Rue Saint Honoré away from the Louvre. It was sombre and gentle crowds that greeted them on that side of the river; with young children throwing posies of flowers into the street for the horses to walk upon. Pressed and squashed by the horses' hooves, the flowers began to permeate the air with gentle floral scents that the ladies began to remark upon. Amorette couldn't help smiling when she glanced down and saw the wondrous faces of the little girls who lined the streets. They gaped at the grandeur of it all, the gems and pearls of the jewellery reflecting in their young eyes as they picked out pieces that they wished they themselves owned. The velvets and silks of their expensive skirts sewed with golden thread enticed the slightly older girls who wished for nothing more than to wear a pretty dress when sneaking out to meet their young sweethearts. The men of Paris court were dressed well too, with their war medals presented upon their doublets and each man who owned one wore a ceremonial sword attached to his belt. The young boys marvelled at the horses three times as tall as them and the war heroes who sat straighter in their saddles than a woman in the tightest of corsets. Amorette glanced to her right and her mood immediately lightened. Claude rode beside her, simpering and flicking her hair over her shoulder as young men from a street corner wolf-whistled at her. Such an action would have made Amorette highly uncomfortable but Claude revelled in it and encouraged it.

Swiftly Amorette's small smile dropped. None of this was real. Her heart sank as she realised that the envious eyes of those children lining the streets was not a healthy form of jealousy. The nobility had extortionate wealth, much of it displayed on the city streets that day where some of the poorest people in their country suffered. They ate, drank, dressed, bought and partied money away that was capable of funding a normal Paris citizen's life a thousand times over. They didn't really admire what they had. In fact, what they were subconsciously thinking was if that Madam bought one less new hat for her pretty head, that money could feed a family for a few weeks; or if that mon Seigneur spent one less night out at the card tables and stayed home to read a book instead; why that money could perhaps put a roof over a poor street urchin's head for a time. Why did they live so frivolously and still suffer the constraints of forced marriages and precarious positions at court when people who had so much less lived so simply?

None of their fine things or sumptuous feasts meant anything to them at all. Amorette pondered just what it was that she held dear to her, and was swiftly reminded that she needed none of the pomp that surrounded her. The material possessions that she could not bear to part with were not rich trinkets, but a few books and an old necklace of her mothers. The reality was that more than anything she needed the people who surrounded her in that moment. She did not need Claude in her fine dress who rode beside her, or Buckingham in his fine doublet who was tucked away in his lodgings on the Rue des Minimes though. She needed them for who they were and how they had shaped her, but not for the money that lined their pockets. She felt suddenly alien within the procession, as if she were wholly removed from a very many of the courtiers surrounding her. Constance, she knew would share her feelings though. She did not want money or wealth. Hadn't she proved to herself time and time again what she really stood for. Whilst she spent little time in her home in Provins now, she still funded the schools there and gave money to the magistrate each month to dispense to those who struggled. She did not want to be a member of this elite who lived so stiffly, with their purses strapped tightly shut.

She glanced behind her in search of Athos, just catching sight of the feather plumes of his hat above the other heads. That was real wasn't it; that proved who she was as a person? She had loved and needed him since she was five years old even though for the first few years she had not known herself what her feelings were. She did not love him for money or title back then, but for his beautiful blue eyes, for his kindness and his strength of heart, for the way his voice descended into a deep baritone when he was angry and created butterflies in her stomach. Back then he had been a Comte, albeit not a very wealthy one. Now though, he was just a simple soldier. Granted, he was a war hero and a musketeer and they were well reputed to be loyal and decent men. It was strange though, that as a simple soldier he had stirred in her feelings stronger than anything she had ever felt before. She needed him more now because he reminded her of what it was to be a good person without pomp and state.

When the procession reached the Tour Saint Jacques it made a sharp turn onto the Pont au Change towards the cathedral. Coming to a stop, the courtiers looked around in confusion. They had seen no trouble at all during their peaceful parade through the city. They waited as the King met the Queen at the door of her carriage and together they entered the cathedral. After that the princes and princesses of the blood followed; cousins and their families who were closely related to the King and Queen. The men dismounted and began to make their way in, with those who were married stopping to help their wives dismount. Being a widow and not strictly speaking a Queen's lady, Amorette knew she should be one of the last to enter Notre Dame and so she waited as Claude dismounted and followed the procession slowly indoors. D'artagnan helped Constance down from her horse as a musketeer she did not know helped Amorette.

For a brief second she chanced to look for Athos but the press of soldiers bringing up the rear of the parade was too confusing. She gave up and resolved to stay close to Constance and D'artagnan as they at length reached the great doors of the cathedral.

The aroma of carefully applied perfumes was almost suffocating in the rows of courtiers pressed together to take mass with the King and Queen. Amorette watched many Mesdames fanning their faces furiously to ward off their neighbour's scent throughout the morning and everyone gulped great mouthfuls of fresh air when they emerged from the cathedral again. Instead of heading back towards the Palace as would be expected on any normal Sunday though, the procession began to slowly filter across the Petit Pont into the Latin Quarter of the city. The King planned to speak at the Sorbonne university that afternoon with delegates of the 'Guilde des anciens combattants' who had been cleverly chosen. The King's new laws regarding war veterans had not gone down well in any quarter of Paris, but his advisors believed that they had selected the most reverent and amenable men injured in war to speak with the King.

They hadn't made it far onto the Rue saint-Jacques though when the entire mood changed rapidly. Up until that point, the people lining the streets had been good natured and gentle in manner, but as her eyes began to dart about furtively, all Amorette saw were young men, some bedraggled and some well-dressed. They stood in silence either side of the streets, faces void of any emotion. There was a shrill silence as the wind picked up and a banner emblazoned with the Fleur des Lis almost toppled out of the standard bearer's hand. The whole procession could feel the tension in the air as the Queen's carriage just in front of them picked up speed a little. Out of the corner of her eye Amorette glimpsed Porthos and his horse cantering past them on to the head of the procession and knew someone; more than likely Treville had sent him ahead to lead the parade home quickly.

Amorette knew then that there would be no meeting at the Sorbonne today. In hindsight, the whole parade had been a foolish idea but if they'd simply left Notre Dame and returned to the Louvre, they'd have met no opposition. But here they were in the Latin Quarter of the city, home to the rebellious students of the university who were radical thinkers. All at once the men lining the streets began to shout.

"Justice for the war heroes!"

"What did our father's fight for?"

Amorette sucked in a sharp intake of breath as she felt everyone around her begin to panic. Something nasty was brewing in the air and she knew they all feared that if they didn't get back over the bridge soon, something very bad would come to pass.

"Our veterans would have been better off as prisoners of war!" yelled one young man as a Red Guard appeared out of nowhere to push him back into line. The line didn't hold though. Other men stepped forwards to throw bits of food and to jostle the horses.

D'artagnan appeared beside Constance and squeezed her hand gently. "Porthos has gone ahead to lead the King back across the river via the Pont Neuf. Whatever you do, don't stray away from the Queen's carriage. Follow it straight back to the Palace. It should pick up speed at any second so be ready!" he called to all three of them.

Amorette and Claude nodded their agreement as Constance and D'artagnan shared a worried glance. He squeezed Constance's hand again gently and Amorette thought he was going to leave them, but he pulled his horse in closer. The reassurance that Constance seemed to gather in that moment had Amorette suddenly wanting Athos by her side but when she looked around her, he was nowhere to be seen.

The carriage stopped abruptly a little ahead of them for a few seconds and Amorette saw Aramis grab hold of the railing that encircled the carriage roof and step up on top of the wheel arch before it moved off again, picking up even more speed just as D'artagnan had predicted. The procession reached the Rue des Grands Augustins in haste, and could no longer really be called a procession any more. They had become more of a rabble surging forward at each chance they got. There was enough space for three horses to stand alongside one another in the narrow street and no more. Courtiers began to shout and cry out as they were jostled and crushed in their desperation to get away from the protestors who were following them through the streets of the Latin Quarter. Baxter's sharp jerk of the head had Amorette glancing down at him fearfully as she remembered the trouble she had experienced with her horse recently. When she thought about how apprehensive she felt about this whole situation, she thought it must be ten times worse for the horses. Making a grab for the reins of Claude's horse she almost toppled out of her saddle. She made a grab for them again once she had righted herself to try and prevent Baxter from taking off of his own accord but her hand stopped, suspended in mid-air as a blast rang out behind them.

As a cloud of thick black smoke erupted from a few streets away the ladies began to scream. Amorette only had the time to utter "Gunpowder…?" before Baxter reared on his hind legs. She yelped as she was almost thrown off but she dug her knees in as tightly as she could. The air flew out of her lungs as Baxter righted himself on four legs and Amorette placed a shaky hand to her head to make sure her hat was still in place. She made another grab for Constance's reins as her friend also tried to grab hers but it was too late. Baxter took off down a side street, galloping as if the devil himself were following him.

It was all Amorette could do to stay in the saddle as her horse tore through the Latin Quarter into the thick smog. Another blast erupted far closer to her and she felt the heat of it on her face this time. Baxter reared again and Amorette gave up trying to hold on at the last minute. She let herself be thrown off and heard Baxter gallop away as she lay in the dust. It came to her then that perhaps he had wanted to unseat her from the beginning. Rising into a sitting position Amorette strained her eyes to try and see through the gloomy, dusty fog that the gunpowder blasts had created.

She would have expected to hear shouts and screams, hear the flames licking at the walls of the nearby buildings but oddly everything was strangely silent. It was a few seconds before she forced herself to stand on shaky legs and look around her at the deserted street. She could only see about twelve feet in front of her before the end of the street enveloped itself in a cloud of dust. Amorette had no clue where she was, or what direction to make for. She turned on her heel countless times in the same spot, not sure whether she should move or not. Another quieter blast sent her running in the opposite direction, tripping over her own feet and skirts.

Amorette wandered aimlessly through the murky streets until she slowly but surely felt the air around her begin to strengthen. She looked up at the buildings lining the street and was not surprised to see that all shutters and doors had been thrown shut and bolted from inside. She thought she heard shouting from a few streets away but the voices petered out as she carried on walking into the clearer air. Amorette thought she heard another blast from further afield but it didn't affect the air around her. Up ahead she could just make out the Jardin du Luxembourg and even though she somehow knew that it would be completely deserted she trudged on, hoping to wait there until the disturbance had died down. As she reached the gates though, Amorette came across the first people since she had lost her friends.

At first glance Amorette saw two young men up ahead, but as she drew closer she realised that one was little more than a child. The elder of the two threw Amorette a glare as they crossed the street heading towards where all the commotion was taking place. "Hey you two!" Amorette cried as she raced after them. "Where on earth do you think you are going? Where are your parents?"

The younger boy timidly looked to the floor as Amorette gazed at them incredulously. The elder boy shrugged his shoulders and made to turn away but Amorette grabbed a fistful of his doublet to stop him. "Our fathers at work!" he snarled. "We wanted to see what was going on."

Amorette made note that the boy hadn't mentioned a mother and was careful not to mention it herself, sure somehow that the mother was no longer with them. She fuelled her energy instead into smacking the boy's head. "Fool of a boy to bring a child out into such danger!"

"We'll go home now Madam…" muttered the youngest.

Amorette nodded her agreement. "Yes, yes you will and I will walk you there myself."

Gruffly, Amorette kept hold of the older boy's doublet and dragged him along, sure that the younger boy would follow.

"What are your names?" she asked as they left the Latin Quarter and entered the Montparnasse Quarter.

"I'm Denis Paquet, and my brother is Gaspard," whispered the younger boy meekly.

"What do you do, giving a stranger our names?" Gaspard growled and Amorette tugged roughly on his doublet again.

"I may be a stranger Monsieur Paquet but I am the least of your worries if you wish to walk these streets alone! I mean well, which is a lot more than I can say for the people in the streets of Paris today."

"What were those blasts Madam?" Gaspard asked. "Did you see them?"

Amorette glanced at the older boy, assuming he could not be much more than seventeen. He had a mischievous glint in his eye, as if the idea of gunpowder explosions excited him. "Oh how like a boy," she grumbled as she continued to drag him, with Denis now leading the way to their home. "I didn't see the explosions, no. But what I do know is that you two should be indoors on a day like today."

Denis, who Amorette thought to be about twelve led her and Gaspard out of the built-up streets of Paris towards the Rue de L'Arbalêtre where he had told her that they lived. Amorette didn't let go of Gaspard's doublet until they stopped outside their home. Looking up at the non-descript house before them, Amorette supposed it looked reputable enough if a little tired. The boys both wore tired and old clothing but they had been made and looked after well. Everything seemed entirely respectable.

"This is us. You can leave us now Madam," remarked Gaspard.

Amorette almost snorted in laughter. "What, so you can sneak back up the street again? No, I'll stand here and watch you go inside. Close and bolt the door behind you both!" The boys moved to cross the street towards the house but Amorette called them back. "I'll have your father's name whilst I'm here! If I find out that either of you two have ventured out into the streets again today, I'll tell him all about this!"

"Barnabé Paquet," replied Denis.

"Good…" Amorette murmured before she rummaged in the pocket of her skirts and pulled out five Livre coins. "Here's a little incentive to stay indoors. I mean it, there's trouble afoot today and if you venture out again it'll be my fault now that I've discovered you both!"

Gingerly she placed the money into Gaspard's outstretched hand and nodded to him. He gave her a word of thanks and turned away towards his home, but Denis continued to gaze up at her. "Shouldn't you come indoors with us if there's trouble Madam? If it's not safe for us then surely it isn't safe for you either!"

Amorette patted the boy's shoulder gently. "Thank you for the offer Monsieur Denis, but I must find my friends."

Amorette waited until the door was firmly shut behind the boys before she turned and walked towards the end of the street again. There was not as much dust in the air there, but she could still smell the sulphur. Amorette decided to follow the smell, hopeful that the chaos would have subsided a little by now. Once the King and Queen were safely across the river the Red Guards and musketeers could fall back into the Latin Quarter to contain the revolt. She passed the Jardin du Luxembourg again and stopped for a second at its gates to observe the black smoke that still emerged over the rooftops up ahead. There was no hope of her finding Baxter in the maze of streets so she had no choice but to walk back to the palace. She reasoned with herself that if there was more trouble, she would double back upon herself and cross at a bridge further up the river. From there she could seek out Buckingham in his lodgings and would be safe there.

She began to lose track of the street names as the dust in the air began to thicken. She could hear the burning of a building nearby, and the sounds of river water being thrown to douse the flames. Men and women ran here and there with buckets of water, but no one that Amorette recognised. Thinking it best to keep herself to herself, Amorette slipped down an alleyway and out onto another deserted street. Clearly anyone who had any sense had locked themselves indoors. Just as Amorette thought that she might be nearing the river again, a cacophony of aggressive voices broke out to her left and then another blast tore her off her feet.

The explosion had been enough to break all the windows in the street, and to completely floor Amorette. The wind knocked out of her, she turned her face into the ground and let the debris and dust settle around her for a few moments before she dared to raise her head. There were people moving about, she was sure of it. Despite the black smoke and dust she thought she could see shadows appearing before her eyes. She strained to listen for their footsteps but she heard nothing at all. She began to cough the dust from her lungs, but she couldn't hear the sound of that either. Panic rose within her chest and she shook her head vigorously as if that would resolve the matter. Tears sprung to her eyes as she realised all sound was lost to her.

Amorette pushed herself up from the ground a little as she felt the sensations of a cough again without hearing the sound as she tried to clear her throat. Suddenly she heard her own guttural gasp as she dragged air in. In a rush the sound of shouting, crying and of the building on the corner of the street entered her head and she sagged towards the ground again as new tears of relief rolled down her cheeks.

A heavy hand clamped down on her shoulder and tried to turn her around. Amorette let out a yelp as she lifted her arm to try and defend herself and then she came face to face with Athos. He held his hands out for her to take and pulled her to her feet. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

A shot rang out nearby and Amorette saw his eyes flit over her shoulder for a second. "No I'm fine I was just trying to get back over the river and-"

Another shot rang out, this time much closer to them. The musket ball embedded itself in the wall just above Athos' head and Amorette didn't need explanation when he grabbed her hand and dragged her along the street.

 _ **So, who's responsible for the gunpowder explosions? There's a rather wonderful moment between Athos and Amorette in either the next chapter (potentially the one after that if I get carried away and turn one bullet point into a whole chapter again)!**_

 _ **In the next chapter for certain though, Amorette figures out her own way to deal with Ninon de Larroque!**_


	45. Chapter 45

_**So, I did say Ninon would be in this chapter, but I decided to put that off until next chapter. In her place is another flashback that I think is quite an important one. I hate it for several reasons, but I couldn't get it out of my head until I'd typed it.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

The shots rained down from above, that was all Amorette was sure of as she let Athos drag her through the dust that still lingered over that area of Paris. Athos clearly knew were the shots were coming from too as he didn't even attempt to look over his shoulder once. They were not a target; that much was clear by the haphazardness of the rounds fired. Every so often a shot would be aimed yards from them, at someone else who had risked the streets. Amorette also did not think they really intended to shoot them, but she let Athos take charge none the less. It wouldn't do to argue with him when he was still firmly on duty as one of the King's finer musketeers.

A break in the shots must have meant that the shooters had run out of ammunition. Taking advantage of the lack of fire, Athos propelled Amorette towards a secluded alleyway and followed her down it, the darkness of the creepy corridor and the low brim of his hat making it very hard for her to ascertain just what expression he wore in that moment.

"If they're reloading, they won't be watching the streets. Hopefully they won't have seen us come down here. When they move off we should be able to make it back across the river." It was all said in the gruff and cold manner that Amorette had forgotten Athos could possess at times. His eyes darted from one end of the alley to the other repeatedly without blinking. Amorette leaned against the wall and tried to catch her breath, her chest heaving with the exertion of the mad dash through the streets. Athos on the other hand, was not affected at all. Amorette supposed that he was used to all of that running though.

They waited for a while longer in the quiet solitude of the alley, the air around them beginning to freshen all the while. The dust was beginning to clear which would enable them to find one of the bridges more quickly, but it would also mean that whoever was shooting at them would have a clearer view. Athos began to step closer to the mouth of the alley, poking his head gingerly around the corner to observe the street. Amorette gave a worried yelp and grabbed a fistful of his doublet sleeve in readiness to pull him back towards her, but nothing happened.

Tentatively, Athos began to move further out into the street until none of him remained in the alley. The more steps he took, the more apprehensive Amorette became and when he finally vanished from sight she rushed out after him, not wanting to lose him should anything else happen. He held out his hand to her when she approached and she silently accepted. They hurriedly walked hand in hand back the way they thought the river flowed, hoping to catch sight of one of the bridges with every corner they turned. The air was beginning to clear, but they met no one along their way.

Suddenly another shot rang out behind them and Athos let out a snarl as he glanced over his shoulder. He dropped Amorette's hand and pulled out a pistol to fire back. He had not done so before hand; Amorette understood because he could not have been sure he would have hit his target when they were positioned on the roofs of the buildings. Now that they had come down to his level though, Amorette could tell by his stance that Athos felt sure he would hit them. Part of her wished he was not so confident, that we would even consider retreating whilst he shot but he stood stock still in the middle of the street with his free arm pushing her behind him.

The young men Amorette had observed lining the streets this side of the river during the parade looked back at them now from the other end of the street. There were at least twenty of them, but only a select few held pistols or muskets. Those were the young wealthy students Amorette presumed, who probably carried pistols and rapiers on their person every day. They were still firing wide of the mark and Athos returned the volley. Amorette quickly made her mind up and reached for Athos' other pistol when his elbow gave a sudden jerk, almost winding Amorette as his free arm flew backwards with force into her diaphragm. Amorette knew that such a reaction could mean only one thing and sure enough, when she looked down blood was beginning to drip to the dusty ground beneath their feet.

The realisation that he had been hit instilled a sense of fear in Amorette like never before. She felt her heart rate increase rapidly in panic, the blood pumping organ almost threatening to burst from her chest. She did not freeze though as even Amorette might have expected of herself. Spurned into action by the sight of his blood, Amorette grabbed fistfuls of the back of his doublet whilst he still fired shots with his uninjured arm. She began to drag him backwards with all her might, letting out grunts of frustration when Athos dug his heels into the ground.

Amorette didn't know how Athos was managing to use his injured arm to reload his pistol but she was almost certain that he wouldn't have enough musket balls to outlast at least five or six weapons firing at them. It seemed the musketeer eventually came to that realisation himself and began to reluctantly let Amorette drag him backwards. _Where would they go though_ **?** Amorette glanced behind her but could see no narrow alleyways for them to dart into.; there were only wide main thoroughfares. She guessed they must be closer to the river than she had thought. If they could make it to the river, they might find help along the way.

Just as they reached a crossroads and Amorette halted as she tried to work out which way they should turn, something large and solid barrelled into them from the side with a strangled growl of "MOVE!" An eruption of shouting and more shots disorientated them both as Porthos dragged them around the corner of a building and out of the line of fire. A brigade of Red Guards began advancing down the street the way they had come, towards the protestors. Amorette did not feel relieved though. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see others running along the roofs of buildings again.

"Where the hell have you two been?" Porthos growled.

"Looking for her!" Athos replied grimly as he jerked his head in Amorette's direction.

If Amorette had been paying attention she might have been offended at his dismissive tone, but the five young men on the roof opposite them were distracting her slightly. She raised her hand and pointed as the two musketeers followed her eye line with their own. The long-range muskets they had set up were likely going to cause multiple injuries to the brigade of Red guards who didn't even know they were there. Almost as if on reflex Athos and Porthos lifted their pistols and fired. Porthos reloaded with ease to fire again but as Amorette glanced down she saw that Athos was having difficulty. The hand of his injured arm shook uncontrollably, blood staining the cuff of his shirt.

Amorette felt her heart almost crack in two for him as he struggled to place the new musket ball into the barrel of the pistol. He was not the type for panic but he was clearly angry with himself for displaying such a weakness. Amorette had two options, either help him reload, or fire the pistol herself. Thinking the latter, a quicker endeavour Amorette quickly reached for his other pistol.

"Athos give me a pistol!" she cried when he jerked out of her reach. He ignored her, still fumbling with the single musket ball. Amorette met Porthos' eye for a split second before she asked again much more forcefully. "Give me a pistol!"

Swiftly Athos seemed to admit defeat at hearing the authority in her voice and pressed the weapon he already held into her outstretched hand. There was a strange expression on his face as his eyes met hers. Amorette thought she knew what he was trying to tell her and rolled her eyes in defiance as she accepted the musket ball into her other hand.

Athos had already half-cocked the flint and loaded gunpowder into the weapon so Amorette simply dropped the musket ball into the barrel, rubbed a little gunpowder over the flash pan and released the safety lock. The weapon being a Flintlock musket, there may have been a need for Amorette to shove a ramrod down the barrel to ensure that the musket ball had rolled as far back as it should, but she judged swiftly that there was little time for that and aimed her weapon at the now retreating protestors. It seemed Porthos' firing had made them rethink their endeavour somewhat.

Amorette aimed carefully, counting three beats in her head as the boys continued to skirt along the roof tiles in no particular direction. On the fourth beat, Amorette sucked in a breath and pulled the trigger. A shower of sparks erupted from the musket and the gunpowder ignited, sending the musket ball hurtling through the barrel and into the air to embed itself in a protestor's thigh. Amorette grinned in satisfaction when the boy jerked and stumbled, but managed to stay standing. She hadn't intended to kill him, but it would certainly slow him down enough for them to gain ground on him. Wherever it was that he decided to drop from the roof, they could wait.

"We might hope to make a shot like that but only just. Where the hell did she learn to shoot like that?" Porthos demanded of Athos incredulously.

"Me…" Athos muttered as he accepted the pistol back into his hands.

 _The spark ignited as Amorette pressed down hard upon the trigger, catching the gunpowder inside the barrel. Amorette repeated her well taught steps and fired at the glass bottles lined up along the stone wall. She hit a few bottles, but some of her shots went wild, and others embedded themselves in the stone wall of the garden feature. A while ago Amorette might have cared about that, but now she simply shook her head in amusement and reloaded the pistol._

 _She jumped a little as a voice from behind interrupted her. "I thought I told you to take a breath between aiming and firing?"_

 _She turned to find Athos advancing towards her across the lawn. She lowered the pistol and waited for him to reach her, offering a small smile as a greeting. "You did tell me that Athos, but that's all well and good if you are firing at glass bottles in the garden. What happens if your target is moving rapidly; either towards or away from you? Or even firing back at you? There is no time!"_

" _Of course there's time," Athos muttered as he gently took hold of her arm that held the pistol. "Here, let's try it again?"_

 _Athos placed his hands on Amorette's shoulders and began to spin her around, talking all the while. "No matter how fast or in what direction your target is moving, you still hold the upper hand because you remain still. Aiming and shooting without thinking about it will not provide you with the perfect shot; almost ever. Try again, but this time let a beat pass before you fire."_

 _Still spinning her, Athos suddenly clamped down tightly upon her shoulders and Amorette was forced to stop. She rapidly brought her pistol up and aimed at one of the still standing bottles atop the wall. As his hands dropped to her waist Amorette had no need to concentrate on waiting a beat. She was overly aware of her racing heart due to his proximity to her. She counted a few beats, breathing out and then in again slowly before his breath on the back of her neck startled her into action and she pulled the trigger. The bottle shattered into pieces as the musket ball tore through the glass._

" _See," Athos grumbled as he let his hands drop from her waist and turned away from her again. Amorette felt suddenly cold without his gentle momentary touch._

 _He looked just as he had done earlier that morning when he had arrived at her father's estate, confused, grim and perhaps a little disappointed. Amorette was well used to his sullen moods, having been his friend for nearly ten years but it was not a side of him that she enjoyed so much. When he was like that, she didn't have the first idea how to talk to him._

" _What's got into you anyway?" she called after him. "You've been in a terrible mood all day! You know you can talk to me about anything, I won't breathe a word."_

 _He sighed heavily as he turned back to observe her. Amorette walked towards the wall to retrieve the other musket and items she had brought outside with her and sensed Athos following her. "That's the problem, I think. I know I can tell you anything and you will not speak of it to anyone, but perhaps in this case that's risky. You have a habit of bottling things up, and in this case that might make things worse."_

" _Me?" Amorette cried. "I bottle things up? What about you? Isn't that your signature move? The last party that you attended, I do believe you spoke to me and no one else all evening! You sat in the corner oh so stoic and refused to converse with anyone!"_

" _Even then I was not sure how to tell you what I must indeed tell you," he said forlornly._

 _Amorette opened her mouth to reply when Stafford, her father's steward approached them from the direction of the stables. "Why don't I clean all this up Cometess?"_

 _Amorette shook her head at the boy who was only a few years older than her. "Nonsense Stafford. It's my mess so I'll clean the guns and replace them. I'm sure you've already got one hundred and one things to do already without having to run around after me!"_

 _Stafford threw a sheepish look to Athos. "With all due respect Cometess, isn't it better that I deal with the guns? I know you will recall what happened last time?"_

 _Amorette shrewdly looked at Stafford before admitting defeat and handing over the two weapons. He nodded curtly and marched off in the direction of the stables. She turned back to find Athos gazing at her with his eyebrows raised in curiosity. "What happened last time?"_

 _Amorette groaned. "You know as well as I do that my father doesn't agree with you teaching me to shoot," she mumbled and turned to walk in the direction of the house._

" _I do, and that's exactly why I did teach you!" Athos called as he caught up with her. "But what happened last time Mademoiselle?"_

 _Amorette stopped and turned to look at her oldest friend who towered above her small frame. He had grown again, if that were even possible for a man of twenty-three. "The last time I used my father's guns he was unhappy. He said I didn't clean them or put them away properly. He had another one of his shouting fits and had Stafford clean them all over again. I suppose Stafford is right, there is no point in them being cleaned twice!"_

 _Amorette tried to turn away again but Athos caught her arm in his grip. "And what did this shouting fit entail?"_

 _Amorette sighed heavily as his cobalt blue eyes assessed her for inclination that she might be hiding something from him. "Just that Athos. He shouted and threw things but that was all that happened. It was quite tame really for him, and he smashed his new brandy decanter when he threw it against the wall. He says he's selling this house, you know."_

 _Amorette had successfully steered the conversation away from her arguments with her father for her last statement really did pique Athos' interests. "No, I didn't know! Why is he selling?"_

" _It's not as if this is home to him. I think he thought somehow that being in France would bring his dreams of owning my mother's property closer to reality." Amorette kicked out the hem of her burnt orange dress as they began to slowly retreat towards the house again. "He's not getting a penny of her money or any of her houses though, it's all too well tied up in her will. Plus, she has a rather good lawyer who has ensured there is no loop hole in which my father can rob me of my inheritance. My mother may have had poor judgement when it comes to most things, but in this case, she chose wisely in the form of her lawyer."_

" _What about you then?" Athos asked her solemnly. "What will you do?"_

" _Go to my mother's home here. I think my father half expects me to return to England with him but there's no chance of that. Not now that he no longer controls me. Now that I am my own woman I can do what I please. I'll leave in a week or so, and I don't expect to see my father for a long time after that!"_

" _I'm sure that pleases you," Athos mumbled. "It certainly eases my worries about you residing in the same house as him!"_

" _Enough of all this," exclaimed Amorette with a wave of her hand. "You didn't come here to spend all day talking of my father. You wanted to tell me something in fact, go on!" She nudged him gently with her elbow, her smile dropping when he stopped walking and turned to face her with a grim expression firmly in place._

" _This is not an easy thing for me to disclose, and I've been in turmoil for months about how to tell you. I'd rather that you hear it from me before someone else informs you. Have you spoken with your sister lately?"_

 _Amorette shook her head incredulously. "Ann? No, she hasn't written in weeks. We haven't had much contact at all since she left my home. Oh, Athos, tell me what all of this is about? It can't be so very bad!"_

 _Athos drew in a staggering breath as he seemed to be contemplating how to place his words. "Perhaps then, your sister felt a little uncomfortable in your presence. You see, since you introduced us both your sister and I have spent an uncommon amount of time in one another's company."_

 _Amorette rolled her eyes. "I know that Athos. There's no need for you to feel bad for spending time together. I understood that there was an initial attraction, although I must admit I thought it should have passed by now."_

" _Passed?"_

" _Yes. Not on your part necessarily, but I have come to learn since knowing my sister that she can be fickle and indecisive at times, perhaps even wicked on some respects. I thought she might have attached herself to you in some way and then spurned you for another. She told me that she plays men off against one another, and whilst I cannot blame her for her behaviour when I think about some of the horrid men out there I was reluctant to believe she would do so to you at first. My feelings changed slightly after your first meeting her though."_

" _Before you go any further Mademoiselle, perhaps I should inform you of what I came here to tell you?"_

 _Amorette was confused. "You came all the way here just to tell me something? You could have written! There was me thinking you wanted to spend some time with one of your closest friends, but that was my mistake."_

" _I am glad to see you, and to know you are not letting your father rule over you as he was want to do before your mother passed on, but there are other matters that required me to attend in person. I wanted to tell you to your face, I owe you that much at least."_

 _Amorette felt a strange bout of nerves blossom in her stomach. "Good grief spit it out then! It must be serious if you speak so gravely of it!"_

" _You see-"_

 _Amorette interrupted him swiftly with a hand held up between them, "If you're about to bring me some other complaint about Buckingham or Henry Fitzgerald I don't want to know! I know you and my cousin Charles dislike them but they are my friends. I'm entirely tired of hearing of your disputes."_

" _It's not about-"_

" _Oh Lord you're going away again, aren't you? Why do you have to go now? You go so often that I feel I never see you! One week and I will have returned to my own home in Provins! You can come and stay! I'll invite Ann if you so wish it; although I can't be sure she will want to be in my company again. She seems reluctant to have anything to do with me lately."_

" _Mademoiselle-"_

 _Athos had yet to make any efforts to get directly to the point and that was what told Amorette that she wasn't going to like what she was about to hear. She kept interrupting and talking so that he might get irritated and storm off. She felt tears begin to well in her eyes as she interrupted him yet again. "Won't you at least stay until after Christmas? I've missed you these last few months. You didn't even write this time! It must have been something so very great to keep you from reading and replying to my letters!"_

" _For heaven's sake Mademoiselle, your sister Anne and I are to be married in a week's time!"_

 _Amorette's mouth opened and closed wordlessly, like one of the fish in her father's pond. It took a few seconds for her to remember to breathe. Athos was staring down at her worriedly. "I understand now why you were nervous to tell me. That must have been hard for you."_

 _Athos grimaced as if in pain. "Please don't beat me away with pleasantries. Scream and shout at me as you want to! I do not deserve you treating me so well!"_

 _Amorette looked down at the dirty hem of her dress, not sure if she could indeed look at him without slapping him. "You wish for me to treat you badly for planning to marry my sister? You want me to forgo all decorum and behave like some harpy? That is not who I am Athos! But then you would not know that, would you? You have not taken the time to get to know that side of me very well at all! You were too preoccupied making eyes at my sister."_

" _Mademoiselle we've known each other a long time and I do feel that I know you well enough to-"_

" _Well enough to what, Athos?" she choked out between sobs. "Do you love her?" Athos gave a solemn nod. Amorette felt her heart almost physically shudder. "Then there is no more to say upon the matter is there?" She tried to smile through her tears. "Although you have not left me much time to think of what I shall wear to the wedding! One week Athos? I know you were conflicted about telling me all of this but if you are in love with my sister, then what else am I to do but be happy for you? I cannot say it shall be easy for me but I am prepared to try."_

 _Athos groaned warily. "I must confess I am surprised that you are taking this so well. I had thought we might have argued as we usually do."_

" _Well? You think I'm taking this well? Athos what do you want me to do? Tell you that you cannot marry my sister who you confess to love simply because I have feelings for you? I'm not taking this well at all but you know I'm not the type of person to have an emotional break down in public! I won't be some quivering wreck for you to feel sorry for and to feel guilty about. You want to feel sorry for yourself, though don't you? That's what all of this is about! You want to be the heartbreaker guilty of tearing my heart into pieces and then trying to patch it together again! None of this is entirely fair you know, but I'm not going to be that mess! I'm not going to lose my composure so that you can say I'm mad!"_

 _Amorette turned on her heel and stormed away from him as guttural sobs shook her whole body. She balled her hands into fists as she took the steps two at a time until she reached the rear doors of the house. When she looked back, she saw only an empty lawn void of all human life. Athos must have headed for the stables to retrieve his horse. It was only then that Amorette let herself really cry. She let out a wail as she sank to the floor. She pounded the wooden floorboards with her fists in anger as in her mind she cursed her father, and Athos and her sister but above everyone else; herself. She had been the one to introduce Athos to Ann and in doing so had lost him forever._

 _Despite her feelings never being reciprocated, in her mind Amorette had always strangely believed that she and Athos would be married one day. They got on so well as friends for such a long time that she could never imagine being married to anyone else. No one else could possibly treat her as well as he could. There were other reasons too. Athos was a Comte, and she was herself now a Cometess after her mother's death. They were equal in titles if not fortune. Oddly, Amorette's father did like Athos even if he did not think him a good marriage prospect for his daughter. Amorette had believed she might have been able to bring her father around to the idea in time, but now it was not to be._

 _Thoughts of her father had Amorette glancing tearfully towards the celling. Had her father known about all of this? Standing on shaky legs, Amorette wandered through the house and onto the upper floor. The house-keeper, Madam Tasse had come upstairs at the same time from the servant's stairwell. Carrying a tray of what looked to be her father's late lunch, Madam Tasse was headed towards the room that Lord Barclay had taken up as his study. "Madam Tasse, I will take that to my father!" Amorette called as she hurried down the long hallway._

" _Of course Mademoiselle," Smiled the older woman. Amorette waited until she had retreated downstairs again before turning towards the study door, tray in hand. Pushing open the door with her shoulder, Amorette observed the room through a minute gap in the door before opening it fully. Her father was at his writing desk scribbling furiously with his quill._

" _Ah," exclaimed Lord Percy Barclay. "I see you've finally decided to lend a hand where it is needed. You shall have to learn to do so now I'm afraid. Especially as you are now a property owner. I was thinking of asking Madam Tasse tutor you for a few weeks to ensure you get to grips with it all. Of course, there would be no need for all of that if you would simply hand over your mother's property to me. Then you could go on being the errant rich brat that you are!"_

 _Amorette ignored her father's jibe and crossed the room to set down the tray. The windows of the room looked out towards the front of the house and Amorette convinced herself that a tiny speck in the distance was Athos astride his horse. Setting the tray down on a side table, Amorette briefly took her hands from it but quickly replaced them when she saw how much they shook._

" _Well you're hovering for something Amorette! Spit it out, will you? I'm rather busy." Lord Barclay stood and reached for his brandy decanter to pour himself a drink._

 _Amorette knew that he was watching her without even turning around. "You knew, didn't you?" she said to the wall._

" _Knew what?"_

 _Amorette turned to look at her father as he took a swig of brandy. "About Athos and my sister! I thought you liked Athos?"_

" _I do like the Comte de la Feré." Her father poured himself another brandy as he watched her intently. "But he was not for you, evidently. Your sister is a much better match for a country Comte with little fortune! She rises in society with such a marriage. Inadvertently, you would have been marrying beneath yourself if you had chosen Athos."_

 _Amorette let her jaw drop. "Beneath myself? Athos is a good man who would have taken great care of me! I have enough fortune for both myself and a potential husband; whoever he may be!"_

 _Her father closed his account book with a snap. "Enough of this, Amorette. Your sister will marry Athos in a week's time! You must forget all ideas of Athos and think of your own marriage prospects! You must marry well and soon. You can forget any ideas of seeing Athos much too, he will have a new world of his own with his wife. They will have a child within a year or two I expect. No one will want the errant unmarried sister shuffling about, fussing over everything! If you want to get over Athos the right way, marry someone else."_

" _You know very well that you have no say in such matters any more Father," Amorette announced. "Your lunch will be getting cold. I'll leave you to devour it."_

 _Amorette started towards the door, but not before her father moved towards her. He grabbed her upper arm in a vice like grip and threw her into the wall. A section of wooden panelling collided sharply with the back of Amorette's head and she saw stars as the room spun. She might have fallen to her knees if her father hadn't pressed her against the panelling. "No say? My dear I have every say! I am your father still, despite your recent windfall. You may have title and coin now but I still hold the cards in regards to your future. Wherever you go and whoever you chose to marry, I will always be over your shoulder! There is not a man who can be influenced and manipulated by me! This quiet life in the country that you dream of so much will never come to pass! I may not know the location of your mother's secret hideaway in the country but I do not need to. You know I have men at my disposal who will follow you wherever you go when I cannot!"_

" _I will not stand for it!" Amorette cried. "Neither will my friends. I am not your plaything to control anymore!"_

" _Do not think to threaten me with Buckingham! His father the Duke is a wet blanket and the son is too busy making eyes at any piece of skirt placed in front of him! I will get your money! Unfortunately, you have not even received half of it or I'd have killed you right now with my bare hands!" Amorette's quizzical look had her father laughing menacingly. "You didn't know there was more money, did you?"_

 _Amorette shook her head, still a little in shock. She had a rough figure in her head of her mother's money that she had already inherited but clearly her mother's lawyer had cleverly kept the rest from her. Amorette supposed he wanted to inform her of it once she was back in her mother's home and out of her father's clutches. She could certainly see the reasoning of that decision._

 _Lord Barclay abruptly let go of her and stepped away, the veins in his neck protruding in anger. "What on earth is a chit like you do to with all of that money eh? You'll likely spend some of it on some frilly god-awful dresses; feel guilty for spending so much on yourself and the rest to some charity! You must know my lawyers are working as hard as they can to find a loophole in all of this! Failing that, you'll want to watch your back. You will be looking over your shoulder from now until the very day that you receive the rest of the money. I will have it, one way or another! If you die, it all reverts back to me anyway!"_

 _Amorette shook her head, suddenly aware that she might just have the upper hand in this conversation. "No you won't! Did you think I would not take advantage of my mother's lawyer whilst I had him at my disposal? I may not be of age but as I am emancipated now, I have every right to complete my own will and organise my own benefactors! Upon the occasion of my death, everything that is mine will be bestowed equally amongst my cousins! That is until the day I marry of course, and then some will be set aside for my husband and children!"_

 _The brandy glass smashed just above Amorette's head. She snapped her eyes shut as the shards tumbled down around her, one nicking her cheek slightly. Her father let out an unintelligible roar of anger and overturned his writing desk. It crashed against the wall and sheets of parchment tumbled to the floor. The ink well shattered against a book case and the black ink oozed out onto the jade green carpet. Amorette knew what was coming before it happened, but she froze in fear; unable to save herself as her father raced towards her. His fist collided with her head noisily as her head flew back to knock against the wooden panelling again. Unable to stand, she sank to the floor and threw her arms up to protect her head as he punched and kicked any part of her he could reach._

 _The sound of a carriage pulling up outside startled Amorette from her packing. She ran to the window and glanced out, but her fear was unwarranted. Henry Fitzgerald stepped out of the carriage and Amorette went back to her packing. Her second trunk was almost full when she felt Henry's presence in the doorway. She continued packing with her back to him, and waited for him to speak first._

" _I met your father on the road Mademoiselle. That is, I did not meet him, but see him. He rode his horse down the lane as if he were a bat out of hell. He was in such a rage that he didn't stop at all. I take it you had a dispute again?"_

 _Amorette nodded without turning to look at her friend. "We always argue."_

" _Well I must say I was glad to receive your note Mademoiselle. I did not think it a good idea that you attend the sham wedding. I'm glad to ferry you home to your mother's home! I have not been there myself yet but Buckingham says it is set in a very beautiful part of the country."_

 _Amorette closed her trunk with a snap, and having no more belongings to pack she could prolong turning around no longer. She did it slowly, gently reaching up to tidy her hair and hide part of her face with her hand at the same time._

" _Oh Jesus Christ lass!" Henry cried as he gingerly stepped towards her, his scots dialect slipping though in his shock. "Not again! I'm not having this! I'm sending for Buckingham and we will deal with this tonight!"_

" _No Henry you can't!" Amorette exclaimed in reply. "I'm leaving now with you and God knows how long it will be until I come face to face with my father again! He is selling this house and going back to England. I'll have nothing to fear once he has left France!"_

 _Henry took her bruised and cut face gingerly in his hands. "He can't be allowed to get away with this lass!"_

" _I don't want to give him another reason to come looking for me Henry! He's already threatened me! Please let's just go from here and forget all this!"_

 _Henry dropped his hand to take Amorette's hands in his. "Try forgetting it yourself when you catch your reflection in the glass Amorette, or when you have nightmares about all of this! You were actually going to go to the wedding until this happened, weren't you? You only changed your mind because you did not wish anyone to see what he's done to you! I'll tell you this for free Amorette, but if you showed up to the church with a face like that Athos would marry you in a heartbeat instead of your sister! He'd want to save you from all of this and he would. He's no fool, although I do think him rather dull. He would know you would care for and provide for your sister very well. It is you who needs him as a husband right now! Your sister is in no such danger!"_

 _Amorette shook her head as she began to cry again. She did not think that there were any more tears to cry but somehow they kept coming. "That is why I must not go! I can't stop him from living his life Henry! He wants to marry my sister because he loves her. He does not love me! He will never love me!"_

 _Henry raced forward and caught Amorette up in a crushing hug. She clung to his doublet as she cried, not even aware of the footmen who took her trunks from the room to load onto the carriage._

 _ **I hate Amorette's father! I think this flashback was important though as it shows just how horrible he is! I also wanted to show that Athos had a choice, and that he really did love Milady when he married her (although I think from the TV series we already know that?!**_


	46. Chapter 46

_**I'm thinking that I should stop promising what's to come in future chapters. I got carried away by a new scene, again**_ __ _ **It wasn't the wonderful moment I had planned for Athos and Amorette, but it is still going in the right direction ;)**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

"So that's what you two got up to all of those years ago?" queried Porthos as he quirked an intrigued eyebrow.

Amorette ignored him as she shifted so that she was in a better position to look at Athos' injured arm. "Take this off for me will you?" she asked of him as she tugged on the collar of his doublet.

"We don't have time for all of that!" cried Athos even as Amorette bent down to lift the top layer of her skirts. Tearing off strips of her underskirts she rose again to find him shaking his head.

"Well at least let me bandage it up for you! You can't go walking around Paris dripping blood!"

Porthos nodded in agreement. "You hit one of them Cometess. I'll go and see where he dropped down onto our level. He won't be going far. I'll meet you back here."

Porthos moved off before Athos could argue back. For a few seconds the musketeer watched on as his friend ran down the street, glancing into streets and alleys as he went. When he turned to find Amorette watching him disapprovingly he offered his injured arm freely to her perhaps in a way to placate her a little. She took it without question and balanced his hand on her shoulder so that his arm was hanging between them both. "How did you come to be so far from the river?" He asked just as Amorette began to wrap the shreds of her skirt around his upper arm. "D'artagnan said your horse got a fright and galloped off. I think he tried to follow but you were long gone."

Amorette shook her head blandly as she wound the starch white material around his arm. "Don't ask me where I was when Baxter threw me off or where he is now. I just thought walking seemed a better alternative to standing still in the street. I walked into clearer air and towards the Jardin du Luxembourg and I came across two boys in the street alone. Well; I say boys but the eldest of the two might have been sixteen or seventeen. I walked them home, it seemed the right thing to do because they didn't have any intention of going home before they met me. There was no place for the younger boy on the streets with all of this going on."

Athos nodded stiffly. "You should have stayed in that area of the city."

"I thought it might have died down a little in the time it took me to walk them home and return."

"No," said Athos with a shake of the head. "I think it's more likely to last all night; at least until we've rounded up the protestors."

They both glanced up as they heard quick footsteps approaching, but it was only Porthos returning. "Did you find him?" Athos and Amorette both asked at once.

In spite of their current situation, Porthos shot them a grin before nodding. "Yeah, dropped a few streets away. Seems his friends gave up on him and left. The Red Guards are taking him to the Conciergerie, along with anyone else they round up."

"Why the Conciergerie?" Athos asked as he shot Amorette an impatient look. In retaliation she finished wrapping his wound and pulled the strands of material taut before tying a sharp and tight knot; satisfied when Athos couldn't hide his slight wince of pain.

"Direct orders from the Paris governor; doesn't want this lot of protestors riling up more dangerous prisoners in the Châtelet or the Bastille. He's ordered the Red Guard to take care of things this side of the river, and for the musketeers to secure the Palace. Treville's sent everyone there with Aramis taking charge. He wants us back at the Garrison though."

The two musketeers began to move off quickly, and Amorette had to take two steps for every single one of theirs, clinging desperately to Athos' uninjured arm to attempt to slow him down a little. Every so often they ran into Red Guards who were directing groups of protestors towards the Conciergerie on the Île de la Cité and both men slowed to observe the young conspirators. After a few minutes though, Athos began to tire and fell back to a slow walk at Amorette's side and she watched him nervously out of the corner of her eye, worried that he might drop at any minute. She should have bandaged that arm much earlier, but she hadn't had a chance.

The garrison was almost deserted, with the last few musketeers readying themselves to leave for the Palace as they wandered through the archway into the yard. Athos dropped down heavily onto a bench and a niggling worry in Amorette's stomach began to grow. Gingerly she lifted his injured arm and tugged at the ripped and now bloody strips of underskirt until they gently fell onto the table between them. If it was painful, the musketeer hid it very well. Amorette supposed that was not only for her benefit. Heaven forbid one of his comrades should ever see him showing the slightest weakness. Resisting the temptation to roll her eyes Amorette tried to inspect the wound. Not able to see much beyond the blood that was beginning to dry, she turned to ask Porthos for something to clean it with, but he had already disappeared. A few seconds later, Constance came clattering down the steps with a bowl and cloth in hand.

Constance handed them over to Amorette who set to work trying to clean away some of the blood from the edge of the wound after Athos had reluctantly deposited his doublet onto the bench beside him. Whilst a little paler than usual, Athos remained impassive and that made Amorette all the more worried. If it really were not that painful, he would have joined in with the quiet conversation taking place between Porthos and D'artagnan behind them but he remained quiet. She heard little of the conversation between the other musketeers as she concentrated on gentle and swift movements, nearly jerking away when the cloth brushed gently against the wound and Athos couldn't stop the soft hiss that left his lips. His reluctance to admit to weakness angered and saddened Amorette at the same time. What if he had been far more seriously hurt? Would he still be sitting ramrod straight with a face like marble, pretending that his wound was nothing more than a scratch. She suspected that would certainly be the case and that he had likely done so before.

It suddenly dawned on Amorette just how much danger he threw himself into every day. He probably no longer gave a thought to it, so used to serving King and country that he thought his own injuries were inevitable. Today, he had left his post to come in search of Amorette. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have been hurt at all. She considered all the times he and his friends had come to her aid and sickeningly she realised that she herself had put them in danger many times. They had still helped her without a second thought. Amorette felt bile rise in her throat as she tried to shake all of those thoughts from her mind and really looked at the wound before her. The wound was deep, but not seriously so. It was still not a pretty sight and Amorette felt herself blanching at the amount of blood staining his shirt.

Swiftly Athos' uninjured arm reached up to take the blood-stained cloth from her shaking hand and presented it to Constance who stood nearby. Then his hand fell to Amorette's waist, gently pushing her towards his other side as Constance took over. From her new vantage point Amorette could no longer see the wound, only the cobalt blue eyes as they gazed up at her, a storm raging behind them. Not knowing how to soothe his anger, she simply placed her two hands on his shoulder as with his uninjured arm he pulled her into his side. All pretence of their _'friendship'_ was forgotten in that moment and both were well aware that their actions were watched by all around them. Even Treville, who stood above them on the balcony could witness their display of affection.

"It's not too deep Athos," mused Constance as she stood back and tucked a strand of hair behind her ears. "If Aramis were here he would suggest his needlework, but I think to keep it clean, dry and bandaged for a while would do just as well. You should have Aramis look at it later though if you get a chance, he might think differently."

"If I can get away with not having Aramis imbed a needle in my arm, I'll take it," Athos mumbled for the first time since returning to the Garrison.

Amorette gently stepped back and for the second time that day pulled her skirts up a little. "These are already torn, we may as well make use of what will probably end up on the fire." She tore another few strips from her underskirt and handed them to Constance, aware that Porthos and D'artagnan were watching them intently.

When Constance had tied a knot in the makeshift bandages and scurried away to dispose of the bloody water, Treville finally made a decent to the yard to meet them. The four men and Amorette and Constance were now the only inhabitants of the garrison. Scratching his beard tiredly, the musketeer captain looked just as unsure of the days events as they all were. "Start from the beginning," he sighed warily.

D'artagnan began describing quickly just what had come to pass that morning, with a few interjections from Porthos. Amorette was relieved when he conveniently left out how she had lost control of her horse and found herself on the wrong side if Paris. Athos seemed to sense her nerves and again hooked his uninjured arm around her waist to pull her to his side. There was something strangely warming, if not disconcerting about the fact that Athos didn't care what the people around them said about their relationship.

"…Then I bumped into these two, and the Red Guard had everything in hand. Athos was injured so we came straight back here," Porthos finished.

Treville nodded, seeming to add the details up in his head carefully. "Anyone caught is being taken to the Conciergerie to prevent any further disturbance, but I want you three and Aramis when he returns to help me figure out if there are any ringleaders amongst them. The rest of the garrison will take charge of security at the Palace whilst the Red Guard try and instil a sense of calm on the streets. Normally, I wouldn't agree that they would be the best for that role but under the circumstances, we don't have much choice. I think you are all best placed to work with me in this regard. Athos if you need some time to…"

Treville's words trailed off into nothing as Athos shot him an almost tyrannical glare. "I'm ready when you are captain." Swiftly Athos was on his feet as if nothing phased him, batting away Amorette's hand.

Treville nodded again. "Very well. D'artagnan, head to the Palace and see if you can catch a few words with Aramis. Find out if there's any more information to be garnered there and then meet us at the Conciergerie. If Aramis can be spared, bring him along too; although I'd equally like him in charge of things at the Palace. The choice is his. You can take the ladies with you. I'm sure the Queen will be anxious for their company." Constance and Amorette shared a glance. "Porthos and Athos, with me then."

Treville took the stairs two at a time until he had reached the balcony again and Amorette turned her gaze back to Athos. "I'd rather stay with you Athos."

He gently took her hand. "I know, and if I thought it were the safest place for you, I'd have you with me but Treville was right. You and Constance should go to the palace to be with the Queen. At least then I know where you are and that you are safe. Besides, the Queen will surely be glad of your company."

Amorette agreed solemnly and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Just be careful," she whispered before pulling away.

"If I can I'll call and see you later tonight," said Athos as D'artagnan offered Constance and Amorette an arm each.

Amorette shook her head bemusedly. "Don't make promises you can't keep Athos."

With that, they stepped out from under the archway into the streets of Paris. Strangely, the streets here seemed a haven of calmness. A few people bustled about, going about their Sunday business but there was no fear or apprehension in the air. It appeared the riot hadn't reached the Rue du Bac. As they crossed the river and approached the Louvre, the streets there were much the same. All three of them shared sighs of relief though when they reached the Palace gates. D'artagnan decided to walk with them both to the ladies' corridor and Amorette suspected that was because the musketeer thought that there was just as much chance of finding Aramis in the Queen's apartments as anywhere else in the Palace.

It was only when Amorette reached her own rooms hours later and threw herself down onto her bead that she realised how tired that she was. She had only just managed to slip away from the press of female courtiers surrounding the Queen after hours of inane chit chat. The Queen had been glad to see Amorette and Constance, not least because they brought more news than the Queen had been privy to. As expected, Aramis had taken up position outside the Queen's apartments and was handling the security matters from there. The King was locked in his council chambers with his advisors, said to be irritated that Treville had gone to the Conciergerie instead of attending the meeting. overall though, everything at the Louvre Palace had returned to normality.

Amorette lay in the semi-darkness for an age, the exertions of the day finally taking its toll on her. In her mind, she did not really think that she had travelled very far throughout the day but all the nerves and adrenaline that had kept her sane earlier were quickly evaporating. Again, her mind floated to Athos, wherever he was in the city. Not even knowing where Amorette had disappeared to that day, he had still set out to look for her. That reckless decision and the fact that he had been injured in the process made Amorette feel sick to her stomach. It had been almost altogether her fault that he had been shot at in the first place, and she now knew it would likely happen again. Their relationship was at a point of no return. Either she let her mind settle upon the fact that they loved each other and would always protect each other no matter the cost, or she cut Athos loose to save him. That reasoning wouldn't wash with an intelligent man like Athos. He would call her foolish for even thinking that way. Tears welled in Amorette's eyes even as she knew that cutting Athos out of her life was not an option.

There was a click as the door opened and Tilda bustled in, muttering about running a bath before she caught sight of Amorette on the bed. If Amorette had wanted peace and quiet, her own rooms had been the wrong place to come. Tilda fussed and chastised as she pulled Amorette up from the bed and gave her a good shake by the shoulders.

Amorette simply cried more. "Oh, hush now, Madam," soothed Tilda. "You're in a little shock is all. Nothing a hot bath, a glass of wine and an early night won't cure."

Amorette let Tilda run a bath before the fire and Amorette discarded her dress and torn underskirts. Stepping into the hot water, Amorette felt her leg muscles loosen. Another knock at the door told of the arrival of Claude. She too bustled in and made a fuss, making Amorette groan in frustration. She persuaded Tilda to fetch Léo to walk home and soon it was just her and Claude. She was glad of her choice to wear a bath shirt as Claude drew a stool close to the bath and sat on it, chatting merrily to try and cheer Amorette up. Whilst tired, Amorette soon realised she appreciated the deliberate mindless chatter that took her away from her own thoughts.

At length, Claude did decide to take the conversation in the direction of the musketeers. "Monsieur Aramis was just leaving when I called in on the Queen. He's heading back to the garrison now. He's had reports that the city is much quieter now. I expect Athos will get a reprieve to come to you soon."

Amorette grinned at her friend's probing statement. "Claude what is it that you want to know?"

"Oh, come on Amorette. He's been seen leaving your room! Not by many; I'll admit you've both been careful but you can't deny what's going on! Come on, give me details! Has be impaled you upon his musket yet?"

There was a large splash as Amorette's legs kicked out in shock. When she had recovered, she let herself laugh at Claude's crudeness. This was why she cherished her friendship with Claude. The other woman had the strange ability to shock and amuse all at the same time. Whilst many might have thought Claude far too crass, Amorette thought it refreshing for a woman to speak so freely. Amorette's own mother would certainly have called Claude a bad influence but Amorette herself thoroughly believed that Claude was the right influence for her. Her outgoing and bubbly friend had helped and advised Amorette in ways that no other woman had in such a short space of time.

"Whilst I admire your tenacity to ask such a question Claude, I'm afraid that the answer is no." Amorette leaned her head against the back of the bath tub and sighed heavily. "Claude I had been meaning to talk to you regarding just such a matter, but I didn't know how to begin. You see, I have a choice to make rather soon I think. The way things have been with Athos and I over the last few weeks I think we really are at a turning point in our relationship. Until now we have shared nothing more than a kiss or an embrace, but we cannot stay like that forever. I understand things more clearly now that I have been married."

Claude placed her hands on the edge of the bath and leaned her chin on them. "Amorette I'm glad you're willing to admit it. I was worried you'd have gone back into yourself a little after Fabien died. I thought it might take a lot longer for you to come around to this way of thinking."

"I don't want to wait any longer," said Amorette. "There has been a time or two in the last few weeks when it occurred to me that Athos and I might not stop at just kissing. This is it, the turning point. I'm just worried in case it's not what Athos wants too."

Claude shook her head in confusion. "Amorette why on earth would he not want to? I mean, with those breasts it's a wonder he hasn't succumbed already. He's a red-blooded man and he's attracted to you in more ways than one. Of course he's going to want to. He probably has since you got back to Paris and hasn't known how to go about it. Look I know Athos can be difficult to read at times and quite frankly; sometimes his inept and abrupt manner leaves me wondering what you see in him. I think if both of you try to talk it out, you'll end up boring each other to death. For goodness sake, next time you're alone just jump him!"

"Claude what on earth would I do without your witty analogies? I know you're right. I'm glad I've got you and the Duke of Buckingham to just be honest and tell me the truth as you see it. Before Fabien I wouldn't have listened. I'd have squirmed away like an awkward and nervous teenager but now I feel like I'm ready for that kind of honesty. I hate to think of things this way, but I'm glad I married Fabien and we had what time we did together. He helped me see everything in a new light. I'm more confident and trusting of myself now. It just makes me wonder sometimes, if Fabien knew he was dying?"

"And married you to try and help you get over whatever it was that was holding you back?" asked Claude. Amorette nodded. "Well I don't know Amorette." Claude sighed exasperatedly. "I suppose Fabien might have seen that in you; I know I did. I think he married you because he wanted to though. I do think he loved you."

"I just feel awful for him Claude. Here I am jumping into something serious with Athos without any thought and…"

Claude grabbed Amorette's hand and squeezed. "Amorette Fabien didn't just marry you for your benefit. If he did know he was dying, then he married you because he wanted to share what time he had left with the woman that he loved. In doing so, he helped you become a woman. None of that is something to feel guilty about. You and Athos have been knocking boots for so many years now that it was inevitable that the two of you were going to reach this point eventually. I meant what I said, either throw Athos down on top of the bed and jump him, or let him take the lead. Heaven knows you've seen me flirt without actually doing anything myself. Each man is different though, so you simply have to let Athos know in simple gestures that he will understand, that you are ready and he'll no doubt do the jumping. I know he's gruff and cold sometimes, but I can't imagine him being able to resist that."

Amorette squeezed Claude's hand back before letting go. "I think I know what you mean. I think we might have already showed one another what we want though. I'm just overthinking everything."

"That's exactly what you're doing," agreed Claude. "That's why if you talk about it you'll drive each other away until-" A sharp and unique knock at the outer door interrupted their conversation swiftly. The click of the door opening and closing had Claude jumping up. "Shall I lock this door?"

"No," said Amorette with a chuckle.

Claude caught her meaning after a few seconds and grinned. "Oh, has he seen you um…" her eyes dropped to Amorette's now almost transparent bath shirt.

Amorette shook her head. "In a nightshirt but no, not like this."

"Oh lah lah," exclaimed Claude rather too loudly. "I'll take my leave of you then. I don't want to hold up proceedings! I'll pull the latch on the door on the way out!"

Claude gathered her cloak and hat into her arms just as the door creaked open and Athos appeared. He spotted Amorette's face peeking out above the edge of the bath and jerked backwards. Claude's face in that moment almost made Amorette roar with laughter. Amorette shared a mischievous and teasing glance with her friend before calling out, "Athos it's alright I'm wearing a bath shirt!"

Athos reappeared from behind the door, face stoic as it more than often was. Claude said her goodbyes quickly and bustled out, throwing Amorette a wink over Athos' shoulder. Amorette schooled her features into an expression of calmness as Athos gently approached the bath, taking Claude's vacant seat.

"How's your arm?" Amorette asked as she observed the way he carefully held himself.

"It's just a scratch. I told you that earlier. It's fine."

His clipped sentences were enough combined with his pointedly fixed eyeline to tell Amorette that he was determinedly trying so very hard to be a gentleman and not look below her chin. Deciding to make things a little worse for him, Amorette sat forward until she could take his hand in hers on the edge of the bath tub. "I know very well what kind of wound it is thank you. I was worried about you. It bled a lot and you looked ever so pale."

"You looked even paler just from looking at it," quipped Athos.

Amorette shook her head exasperatedly. "Well if your sharp tongue has returned then you really must be fine. What did you all find out at the Conciergerie?"

Athos sighed heavily. "I think we may have identified a few ringleaders, but there are more that have not been caught. The mastermind behind the whole thing is surely the one who set off those explosions. They were small, and homemade explosives. No one would really have been badly maimed. I think they simply wanted to cause trouble, but next time things might be much worse. I think when we take a fresh look at things in the morning, and with Aramis' fresh eyes we might stumble upon something new. For now, we simply must wait. It's too dark to walk the streets in search of answers now. Speaking of which, we may need to speak to those two boys you came across. They may have seen something.

Amorette slowly began to tell Athos about the two boys that she had come across in more detail, but she soon realised that he wasn't really paying attention. He was overtired; that much was obvious, but the way he was watching the movement of her lips as she spoke told Amorette that the only thing crossing his mind at that moment was how much he wanted to kiss her. So, she began to slowly lean her body towards him, rivulets of water dripping from the ends of her wet hair. As she finished speaking, her face had reached his; their noses almost touching. He gently reached up to brush the wet hair away from her face and Amorette was very aware of her quiet breaths becoming heavier and more laboured as his hand cupped her face gently. His thumb made gentle swirling movements along her cheekbone until suddenly he let his thumb trail gently across her lower lip.

Amorette abandoned her calm pretence and grabbed his doublet with both of her hands to hold him in place. She kissed him impatiently as his hand left her face and trailed lightly down the side of her arm to rest at her waist. Amorette began to fall backwards against the bath, dragging Athos with her until he was no longer sitting on the stool but leaning over the bath. His kiss grew immediately hungrier as both of his hands now dipped below the scented bath water to splay against her flat stomach. Amorette felt butterflies in her stomach as ever so slowly the hands began to roam further towards her chest. Just as the tip of one of his fingers brushed against the bottom of her breast, Amorette let out a whimper.

Athos tore his face from hers, the water splashing as he removed his hands. Amorette inwardly groaned. For a few seconds, they simply stared at one another wondering who was going to make the next move. Athos leaned forward again to rest his forehead against Amorette's and he sighed dejectedly. "I can't stay for much longer. I only came to check on you," he murmured. His warm breath ghosted across Amorette's face and she knew he was trying against even his own will to kill the moment. "I'm still not pleased you ventured out at all today against my wishes. I'm sure you'll be in need of a decent night's sleep with all that happened today on top of you being ill. Treville wants us up at first light, fresh and alert."

In truth, in all the excitement Amorette had forgotten all about being ill. She smiled coyly at him, pleased that he didn't plan to dwell too much upon her illness. "Oh Athos, what on earth could I possibly do that would mean you wouldn't be fresh and alert tomorrow morning?"

Athos shut his eyes as if in pain and backed away from her again. "Amorette, I'm beginning to wonder if your friend Claude Morreaux censors all that you say now."

Amorette snorted. "Perhaps she has been an influence on me, but without it I think I might be rather more frigid."

It was Athos' turn to snort. "I don't think anyone could accuse you of being that after that kiss. I meant what I said though, I need to get back. I only came to check on you and meet Aramis. Treville requires a debrief even at this late hour."

"I'll come and find you tomorrow then," mused Amorette as she leaned back in the bath tub again.

"Alright, but wait until after luncheon," he agreed. "We'll be walking the streets from dawn so I expect we won't be back at the garrison until then."

Athos placed a chaste kiss upon her lips and then retreated to disappear through the door again. She listened to his footsteps cross the parlour and open the outer door, her heart soaring as she heard him release the catch so that when he closed the door behind him, it was locked and secure from the outside. Amorette was left mulling over the day in her scented bath water, and to say that she was frustrated would be an understatement. It had to happen soon, the very next day if she had anything to do with it. In her mind, she silently promised herself that if the mastermind behind the riots was caught and locked away, she would go to him the very next evening and then, she would not take no for an answer.

Then she sneezed loudly.

 _ **Ninon de Larroque will be cleverly manipulated by Amorette in the next chapter, and we find out just who's been planning that riot and why!**_


	47. Chapter 47

_**Another long chapter this time as I did promise Ninon would be in there somewhere, so that's why there was a slight delay with this; that and the fact I've been too busy putting up Christmas decorations!**_

 _ **P.S. Amorette's about to fight for her man!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

The new dawn brought a fairly peaceful day in Paris. When Tilda arrived she told Amorette that the streets were quiet, but with the market in Les Halles due to open again after the day of rest there was an air of normality in the city. Amorette dressed and met Claude on the lawn of the Jardin de Tuileries. With little grace about her, Claude was demanding details about what had happened after she had left Amorette's rooms the evening before. Whilst Amorette really had very little to tell her friend in the way of actual deeds, it was liberating to talk of how she felt in regards to her relationship with Athos. Although Amorette appreciated Constance's sensibility and discreetness, she found it odd talking to the musketeer's wife about love affairs and liaisons. She supposed it would have been much the same as discussing such matters with a younger sister who was ignorant of the world of men.

With Claude though, it seemed that nothing could shock her. In fact, she was rather dismayed by what Amorette had to tell her. "When I left I thought things were going to progress a certain way Amorette? You were certainly prepared so I'm assuming that he didn't want to?"

Amorette shook her head as she pulled her fur stole tighter around her neck, well aware of how badly a walk in the cold air might affect her already ill health. With the lawns deserted though, there seemed nowhere quite so good for the two women to talk freely. "I don't think it's that he didn't want to. He was exhausted, especially after being shot at yesterday! He needed to get back to the garrison though. We cannot blame him for wanting to ensure he is well rested to deal with all of those rioters Claude. Frankly I think we are all very lucky that yesterday did not pan out far worse! I'm just glad no one was seriously hurt!"

Claude snorted into her hand. "You two are worse than even my niece Georgitte! She's married into a good family now with a rather dashing young man and she still won't have him anywhere near her! They don't even share a dressing room let alone a bed! I know she is younger than us, but she's married now. She's going to be with that man for the rest of her life, she best get used to it." There was a bitter tone to Claude's voice when she finished speaking and Amorette knew that was because Claude could not be with the man she really loved, because he was not her husband.

"How are things with Sacha?" Amorette asked tentatively.

"Sacha is great! You know he is! He seems to be getting good work, and I think that's partly down to us and our influential friends. I know you've mentioned his name where you could Amorette and we both really appreciate it! And of course he is a wonderful father to baby Ynes; just as he is very good with my older children. I just can't help thinking about what might have happened if I'd met him first!"

"Oh Claude," Amorette mumbled as she put a gentle hand on her friend's shoulder. "You wouldn't have your children if you had not married! I know you would not wish them away for the world. I do admit it's a rather tricky dilemma, but your husband knows you have a lover and doesn't care. At least you can still go to Sacha and stay with him when your husband is in town! This is Paris after all, and anything goes here. You're lucky you didn't marry some backwards Comte who wanted to keep you trussed up in the country next to the fireplace! Or worse, you could have married an Englishman!"

"A man like your father you mean?" Claude asked with her eyebrows raised. She stopped and turned to face Amorette as a few spots of rain began to drip from the brims of their hats. Amorette turned her face away, not willing to let the conversation take a downward spiral. "Amorette I'm no fool! I know you don't talk to anyone about your father but you can't shut me of all people out! I can understand not talking to Constance, as she tells D'artagnan absolutely everything and he would in turn tell Athos. I know you don't tell Athos because you think that either he would see you as weak or his anger might overtake him. I'm not Constance or Athos! What you tell me regarding your father would go no further and I'm not going to get angry because I've no want to go near your father. What I care about is you, and how you feel. You can't seriously believe it's better to keep it all bottled up. I'm here simply to listen and comfort you!"

Amorette rolled her eyes in mock annoyance and waved Claude's caring words away with her hand. "Claude you're making a mountain out of a molehill! There's nothing to talk about!"

Amorette grabbed her friend's arm and after taking a look at the grey sky above them, turned them back towards the path they had lost. "You may keep your secrets if you so wish to Amorette," whispered Claude softly in her ear, "But those who care about you will only think the worst of what happened all those years ago. We have no reason not to when we do not know the real truth!"

"Claude! I'm done with this topic of conversation! Can't we just talk about Athos again?"

Claude simply shook her head at Amorette as they reached a fork in the gravel path. "I don't care who you talk to Amorette. But whatever it was that happened all those years ago has made you wary of everyone you meet! You think all Englishmen are the devil!"

"I DO NOT!" Amorette roared. "What about Buckingham? He's one of my oldest and closest friends!"

"My point exactly! Everyone knows Buckingham secretly has more of a taste for the young men of court nowadays! He was never a threat to you! You know Amorette I do wonder if your father ever forced himself upon you! That's how I think, because you will not tell me the truth!"

Amorette felt a strange sense of disgust brewing inside her. She shook her head meekly. "Claude that never happened; I swear it! I hate my father; and yes he was quick with his fists and mean with his words but never that!"

For a few seconds the only movement was the increasingly heavy rain droplets cascading down between them, the brim of their hats just shielding their faces from the worst of the downpour. There was a weird silence around them that could only be associated with the atrocious weather keeping everyone indoors. "Well I believe you when you say that," Claude as she visibly sighed with relief. "But you must surely understand how I came by those thoughts. You will not talk of it, and so I have no idea what really happened and must create my own scenarios in my head."

Despite knowing that Claude meant well somewhere deep down, Amorette still felt anger towards her friend for the repetition of such a conversation. "Look Claude I understand what you are trying to tell me; but you must appreciate that for me to talk of it again is like reliving it. I do trust you and I wish I could tell you and not see it happening again in my mind, not see his fist flying towards my face or hear his horrible jibes. It's over now, and I'm not that person any more. He doesn't get to intimidate me anymore because I'm no longer weak. I'm strong and that's because I have all of you wonderful people around me. It's like a new life, and the old one holds no meaning for me anymore."

Yet again there were moments of silence and this time Amorette felt there was nothing more to be said. She glanced at the fork in the path and knew she could not walk back to the Louvre with Claude. Instead she turned on her heel and walked towards the gatehouse. She was perhaps a little early to meet Athos, but she could simply meander through the market until he had returned to the garrison.

Amorette sent up a prayer of thanks when the rain began to peter out. It faded away to a gentle drizzle that didn't seem to halt proceedings in the market place. The Les Halles market was as busy as it ever was, and Amorette was a little surprised. The events the day before seemed to have been long forgotten and she supposed it was a good thing. Those rioters who hadn't been caught would see the rest of Paris getting on with their lives as if their cause was as unimportant as ever. There had been a reason for the riot though, and Amorette was reluctant to think too much upon the matter. Everyone had things that made them angry and upset and she had no right to judge what had happened the day before. She had education and wealth. Therefore Amorette would write a carefully worded letter and smile prettily until it got her what she wanted. Others had other ways of attempting to get what they wanted. She didn't condone violence by any means, but Amorette knew that sometimes people needed to go to extreme lengths to have their voice heard.

Amorette walked around the market once, but curiosity had her veering towards the river soon after. It was only just reaching midday when she reached the garrison, but Athos had already returned. She stood in the shadows of the archway for a few moments and watched him as he leaned into a huddle with his three friends. They appeared to be watching Aramis tinker with something at the long worn table. Amorette couldn't help the reddening of her cheeks as thoughts of the evening before floated to the forefront of her mind. Never had she dreamed that she would be so openly brazen in Athos' company but at the time she had felt empowered and free. It certainly wouldn't have been a side of her that he had seen before, and Amorette wondered for a split second if that was why he had left her so hurriedly. Had she frightened him off? Was this new confident side of her the complete opposite of what wanted from her.

Amorette shook her negative thoughts away and promised herself that she wouldn't think like that again. After all, Athos had married her sister and Ann was nothing if not brazen. A stiff gust of wind abruptly swelled from the street outside and blew up the archway, almost knocking Amorette's hat off her head. She grabbed it with one hand to hold it, the other reaching down to stop her skirts from billowing in the breeze. The discarded papers lying at the end of the table lifted in the wind and the four musketeers glanced up. If Amorette had been in any doubt of Athos' affections towards her; he rendered them nondescript with the scorching look he sent her way. The cobalt blue of his eyes was brighter than Amorette thought she had ever seen them, and the corners of his mouth tugged into an almost smile as he gestured for her to come closer.

She reached his side slowly and gave him a small smile in greeting before turning her head towards Athos and what appeared to be a pile of ash on the table before him. Everyone else's attention she realised very quickly though, had shifted onto herself and Athos. She felt her face heating even more and wondered if Athos had let something slip to one or more of his friends. She heard him clear his throat rather loudly from beside her and immediately Aramis' head snapped back around to the table.

"What's all of that?" she asked the marksman as he prodded his pile of ash.

"It's some of the explosives used in those blasts yesterday Madam. They didn't go off though. We found them on our walk of the city this morning." Aramis did something wholly unexpected then and put an ash covered fingertip to his lips.

Amorette recoiled a little. "What on earth do you need to taste it for?" she cried.

"That's exactly it," muttered Porthos from her right. "Earth. Aramis thinks he can discern where the explosives were made!"

"Really?" Amorette cried.

Porthos chuckled. "I wouldn't say he'll be able to name the street! Don't go getting excited. But he should be able to tell whether it was made inside the city or not."

"You can tell that by tasting it?" Amorette asked Aramis.

The marksman nodded stiffly. "I should be able to. You see, this is entirely homemade stuff. That's why the explosions were so small and this gunpowder didn't even light. There's too much moisture." Aramis prodded the pile of ash and repeated his actions from before. "Definitely inside the city I'd say; but on the outskirts. The open farmland of the Faubourgs would be my guess."

"That narrows it down," D'artagnan exclaimed sarcastically.

"Fine," Aramis grumbled as yet again he prodded the pile of ash and licked his finger. "South of the river. That's the best I can do."

"It's something at least. Although where we shall start I don't know. Perhaps we should ask Captain Treville what he thinks." Athos stroked his chin in thought.

Amorette felt his eyes occasionally flit to her, but they stilled when she frowned slightly. "Perhaps you will need to talk to those boys I met in the streets yesterday after all. That's where I walked them too; the Faubourg Saint-Jacques."

"Whereabouts?" queried Aramis.

"Rue de l'Arbalète, just past the Jardin du Luxembourg." Amorette watched as all four men exchanged hopeful glances.

"The boys, did you get names?" asked Porthos.

Amorette nodded. "Gaspard Paquet; the younger boy was Denis." She watched as Porthos brought his hand up to scratch his chin through his beard in thought. He turned to look at Athos, who looked back dumbfounded. "What is it?" she asked.

Porthos shrugged. "I know that name. I just can't place it."

Athos continued to look on, perplexed. "I can't say that I know it," he said gruffly. "Not even from your description of them Madam. Perhaps we should speak with them. They might have seen something yesterday."

Aramis began to wipe his pile of ash from the table into a small cooking pot whilst Porthos lifted his pistol brace and pulled it on. Amorette shook her head as her hands flew up. "Wow wait, you can't all go in waving muskets about! The younger boy was just a child for goodness sake! You'll scare them half to death! They seemed simple and decent young men; albeit a little too curious for their own good but that's no cause to frighten them!"

Aramis smiled gently at her. "The Cometess is right. We'll get more out of them if we present ourselves as friends. I think it would be better if we didn't all go. Perhaps the Cometess, D'artagnan and I should go, just the three of us."

Amorette understood the marksman's reasoning straight away, but Athos' furrowed brow told her that he was about to question it. "Porthos and I can present ourselves as friends just as well as you!" came his gruff reply.

Aramis sighed exasperatedly. "Athos you and I both know you do not have the best demeanour at times, and Porthos' size will likely frighten the young men. D'artagnan and I are the youngest of the four of us and therefore more likely to be able to connect with them. Couple that with the pretty face of the Cometess who they have already met and may trust and its rounded off nicely."

Porthos had taken the news that he was being left behind rather well and meandered off to fetch his lunch but Athos seemed apprehensive about it. "We'll be careful Athos," D'artagnan mumbled as they walked out into the street. We know there's still an undercurrent of bad feeling so we'll tread carefully. Going in unarmed will also help that."

Athos still wasn't pleased when they parted ways from him at the end of the Ru du Bac. Amorette glanced over her shoulder at him as she walked away and observed his crestfallen face. "Don't fret about him," Aramis said gently. "He's just irritated that he might miss out on something."

"And that we are taking you away from him for a bit," D'artagnan said with a smirk. Amorette elbowed him in the ribs even as she laughed.

The further south they walked, the emptier the streets were. People here were probably hesitant to leave their homes if they did not have to. All was quiet though until they reached the Rue de l'Arbalète. Amorette stepped up to the door of the house she had watched the two Paquet boys enter the day before and knocked loudly. All three of them waited silently, but there was no answer. Amorette knocked again, even louder this time but there was still no answer.

"Window's open…" mumbled D'artagnan.

All three of them stepped back out into the street and sure enough, the two windows of the upper floor of the house were wide open. "Denis?" Amorette called out. She thought the youngest boy would be the easiest to snare. "Denis it's Amorette! From yesterday; I came to check on you and your brother! Please come to the window, I only want to talk." For a few seconds there was nothing and Amorette sighed in defeat. Then, the slightest movement of the curtains caught her eye and Denis' face appeared at the window. Almost as quickly as he had shown his face, he hid again as he caught sight of Aramis and D'artagnan. "Denis these men are my friends; Aramis and D'artagnan! They are my friends and they mean you no harm!" Still nothing. "They are musketeers!" Amorette added as an afterthought. It seemed to work because suddenly the boy's face appeared at the window again. D'artagnan gave a friendly wave but said nothing; leaving the talking to Amorette. "Denis why don't you come and open the door for us? We can come in and talk?"

Denis shook his head gently. "Gaspard said I shouldn't."

"Is your brother home Denis?" The boy nodded. Amorette plunged her hands into her pockets and lifted out the two pastries wrapped in a linen napkin and held them up so that Denis could see them. We brought you some lunch. What with me telling you not to leave the house yesterday I wanted to be sure you'd have something to eat."

Amorette looked on as the boy's eyes widened at the sight of the pastries. He seemed to be desperately contemplating what to do, and a few seconds later it seemed he had made up his mind. He ducked down out of sight from the window and a few moments later they heard the sound of the door being unlocked from inside. Amorette threw a smile at Aramis and D'artagnan and stepped forward as Denis appeared at the crack in the door. Aramis planted a swift hand on her shoulder to pull her back though and D'artagnan took the lead. Amorette understood the action even if she didn't agree with it. She hadn't even been inside the house, so none of them knew what could have been hidden behind the door.

The dank hallway of the house was almost shrouded in darkness, with a lone candle burning almost down to the end of the wick. Amorette glanced down towards the worn flagstone floor that was almost entirely hidden by a thick layer of dirt briefly before Aramis captured her attention when he whispered "Those pastries were a good idea Madam."

Amorette nodded to him over her shoulder as Denis led them towards the kitchen at the back of the house. Here too, dirt was present but Amorette noticed that everything seemed to be in its place. She supposed it was the lack of a woman's touch resonating here and there. Gaspard sat at a small table in the corner of the room with a young woman around his age. Quickly Amorette glanced towards the girl's hands and saw a thin and nondescript wedding ring. So Gaspard was married, but by the look of them only just. The young girl had a wariness about her that had alarm bells ringing in Amorette's mind. She presented the Pastries to Denis who scampered towards his brother with them.

"I'm sorry there's only two. I'd have brought extra if I'd known you had company!" Amorette announced. "Are you going to introduce us?"

Gaspard threw Amorette a disdainful look as if he wished that he hadn't admitted them into his home before scowling in defeat. "This is Jacquelyn, my wife."

The girl smiled hesitantly at Amorette. "Jacquelyn doesn't live with us yet," supplied Denis. After presenting a full pastry to his older brother, Denis tore his own in half for Jacquelyn to share. The sight of it had Amorette almost going back out into the street to buy more for them.

"Is your father at work again?" she asked tentatively, thankful that Aramis and D'artagnan had remained quiet.

"Well where else would he be?" snapped Gaspard as he tore off a rather large chunk of pastry and stuffed it into his mouth.

Amorette felt D'artagnan's presence at her side. "There's no need for the rudeness. You still haven't thanked the Cometess for thinking of you and bringing you something to eat."

Gaspard didn't look grateful at all to Amorette. She dodged an ensuing argument by speaking again before anyone else could. "Gaspard this is Aramis and D'artagnan. They are musketeers, and we wondered if either you or Denis might have seen something yesterday? You did leave home with the motive of catching sight of those riots didn't you?"

"We saw the start of it," mumbled Denis through a mouthful of pastry.

Gaspard jerked around towards his brother to shoot him a glare. "What Denis means is that we saw those men come down our street from the upstairs window. Cause a lot of trouble did they?"

"Enough," replied Aramis gruffly. The cold tone was not something that Amorette had ever expected Aramis capable of, so much so that she turned to glance at him. He had been stood behind her but he suddenly advanced until he was a few steps in front of her. "Monsieur Gaspard you have made it quite clear in little words that my friends and I are not welcome here. So, tell us anything you can about what you might have seen yesterday and we will be on our way!"

Gaspard didn't get the chance to answer. The sound of a single shot outside in the street had both musketeers starting. Aramis leapt backwards on instinct, grabbing Amorette's arm as he went. Together all three of them moved against the wall so that they could not be caught in the line of fire through the window. For a few seconds they waited in silence as someone outside began to shout. It was D'artagnan who quickly registered just who it was outside and what they were shouting. It took Amorette and Aramis a few more seconds to deduce that the voice was calling their names. By that time, D'artagnan had run for the hallway to wrench open the door.

Amorette's heart sank a little as Porthos and Athos marched into the room, D'artagnan in tow. Both men were armed as they always were, with pistols and rapiers and Amorette shook her head in annoyance. "Couldn't even listen to a word I said, could you?" she hissed at Athos.

Athos shot her a levelling look. "It was Porthos who wanted to come," he supplied in a cold undertone as he swiftly stepped in front of her. Porthos was glaring at Gaspard with unadulterated hate.

"What did you say their names were again Cometess?" Porthos asked without taking his eyes off Gaspard's face.

"Gaspard and Denis Paquet, but what's that got to do with anything?" Amorette shuffled around Athos so that she could get a clearer view of the tallest musketeer's face.

"I said I knew the name," said Porthos sharply. "And I remembered just where from a few seconds after you lot left!"

"Of course we will have to check the records to be absolutely sure…" Athos mumbled as an afterthought.

Suddenly Jacquelyn jumped up from her chair. "What is going on?"

"My sentiments exactly!" Amorette cried with a glare to Athos.

Everyone ignored them though. D'artagnan and Aramis had the good grace to look bewildered too but they seemed to want to hear what their two comrades had to say, whilst Porthos and Athos kept their angry eyes trained on the two boys. "What was your father's name?" Porthos addressed the boys.

Amorette glanced at him. "Was?"

"My father's name was Barnabé!" Gaspard announced with a flourish as he stood up. Amorette watched Jacquelyn step firmly away from her husband then, as if she anticipated some further outburst.

Porthos let out a low chuckle, but it was not one of mirth. It was in fact a sound that sent a shiver down Amorette's spine. "I thought I knew the name, but now that I see you I'm certain of who your father was."

"He was a soldier like you," chimed Denis. "He was a Red Guard!"

Amorette felt a worrying knot tighten in her stomach. She knew there was rivalry between the two military brigades but she had not expected the musketeers she knew and liked so well to want to terrorise two innocent children just because their father happened to be a Red Guard. It was then that Amorette picked up on the repeated use of the word 'was'. In her head, something clicked. The apparent lack of cleanliness of the home, and the fact that the two boys had been allowed to run errant through the city the day before seemed to add up to something she should have seen earlier. Their happiness to see the pastries she had brought with her had to mean that they had not eaten something so delicious in a while.

She tried to step around Athos, who simply threw her a withered look and stepped in front of her again. Instead Amorette turned her attention to the boys again. "You said your father was at work yesterday? That was a lie wasn't it?"

Neither of them spoke. Instead it was Porthos who replied. "Barnabé Paquet died during the Siege of La Rochelle six years ago." Amorette sucked in a breath as she glanced between Porthos and Athos. Both men were angry, but about what, she didn't know. "He died a traitor's death."

"LIES!" Gaspard roared and Amorette thought by his movements that he was about to throw himself forward and attack one of them. Jacquelyn had taken Denis by the shoulders and dragged him with her out of the way. "My father was a war hero! His friends told us that! They saw him die in battle like a true warrior!"

"You lied to me yesterday?" Amorette called to Gaspard over Athos' shoulder. Perhaps her first thought should have been that the boys lied to protect themselves and because they wanted no intrusions into their lives but something seemed wholly wrong about it all. "Tell me that it was because you were afraid? Or because you don't want help! Tell me it was because you don't want anyone to know that you are struggling!"

Gaspard simply glared at her. Amorette balled her hands into fists at her side. Something was most definitely wrong about this. "Help?" cried Gaspard. "We do not need help from some jumped up Madam or musketeer scum! My father's war pension would have gotten us by very well if the King hadn't abolished it!"

"Your father didn't get a pension!" Porthos growled. "Didn't you hear me boy? He died a traitor's death! He was court marshalled! HE MURDERED MUSKETEERS TO SAVE HIS OWN SKIN! HE KILLED _HIS_ MEN FROM HIS OWN BATTILION TO SURVIVE! HE KILLED HIS FRIENDS!"

That explained the anger. Amorette's heart broke as she watched the conflict on the two boy's faces. "Gaspard tell him that he's wrong! Why would people tell us our father was a good man if he had done those things?"

"Our father's friends came back from battle and sang his praises!" said Gaspard with a denying shake of the head. "Even our own uncle, who came back terribly wounded told us how bravely our father thought!"

"Perhaps," murmured Athos, "Those people wanted to spare two boys such as yourselves the pain and torment of having the knowledge of what your father did all those years ago."

"You know it's true deep down boy," said Porthos. "You never did get any of the pension money. Did you think that the King had written it off as soon as your father died?"

Gaspard nodded as he gulped nervously, the truth seeming to settle in eventually. "is this true?" Amorette whispered to Athos who still stood in front of her. He gave her a minute nod.

"You mean it was all lies?" asked Denis.

Athos spoke with a surprising amount of sympathy then, "I don't delight in dissolving the great esteem that both of you will hold for your father but you have been lied to all along, which makes your actions yesterday all that more gruesome. You set off those explosions, didn't you?"

Amorette's jaw dropped. Jacquelyn took a shaky few steps forward and lowered herself into a chair.

"I'd do it again," muttered Gaspard. "The men who fought for our country get next to nothing back, and the families of those that died get nothing at all. It is not fair! What does the King know of our lives? Surely musketeers such as yourselves would know what it is like to see men return from war as shadows of their former selves. Even those not physically injured see no way back to normal life! Would you men really want to go to war and leave loved ones behind, for them to receive nothing once you have given your lives? The people of France deserve so much more than the fate they have been dealt in such a king!"

"That is not for one boy to decide!" Athos cried.

"There are other ways to solve such issues," Amorette called. "You could have set up a committee, or drafted a petition."

Gaspard snorted as he took a few steps into the room. Athos' whole body stiffened. "What; write a pretty letter of protest and wait six years for someone to read it? That only works for people like you Cometess because you throw money at it! We don't have money! All we have is our words and our fists!"

Amorette shook her head dismissively as she tried yet again to shuffle around Athos. "There are many good people in Paris who would have helped you if only you'd as-"

"Why would someone like you help me?" Gaspard spat. "In your fine clothes and with your pretty words. We don't want the help of the King's flatterers thank you very much!"

"I'd have helped because I wanted to!" Amorette rebuffed. "Do you honestly think that I or any of these musketeers believe in these new laws that the King has passed? Of course we don't but we know there are better ways of fighting for a cause such as this! You could have come to any one of us for help!"

Gaspard spat at Amorette's feet, widely missing the mark but Porthos s took the chance to grab him by the scruff of the neck. "I think our captain should like to meet you and your brother!"

Both boys put up a fight as they were manhandled out into the street. Amorette made a grab for Denis, thinking that the child was probably entirely innocent but at a warning glance from Athos she quieted. Instead she turned her attention to Jacquelyn who still stood on the doorstep, looking on as if her whole world had been shattered. Amorette stepped up and threw an arm around the girl's shoulders which she quickly shrugged off.

Athos turned back to her with a cold glance as he planted his hands firmly on Denis' shoulders. "I think the girl will have to accompany us."

"What; why?" questioned Amorette. "clearly she had no part in this!"

Athos turned sharply away from her to march Denis down the street. "That remains to be seen."

Athos had told Amorette to go home and with good reason, but even his reasoning that she shouldn't see the inside of the Bastille could prise her away. She wanted to ensure the safety of Jaquelyn and Denis if she could. Treville had met his four best musketeers at the gates of the Bastille and Amorette scampered behind them as the two young boys were led away into a room on the right. Amorette and Jacquelyn were left standing in a cold and damp corridor with no windows. The girl began to whimper quietly beside her and Amorette wrapped a soothing arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. This was no place to bring a young girl, or two young boys for that matter. She whispered soothing words of encouragement to Jaquelyn for a while before the girl's face grew marble white and Amorette had her sit on the floor for fear that she would topple over. Amorette abandoned all etiquette and sat on the dusty ground too. She supposed that they must have sat for hours in one position before the door finally opened again and Athos appeared above them. He pulled Amorette to her feet as he observed Jaquelyn worriedly.

"She shouldn't be here Athos! Neither should those two boys!" Amorette smoothed down her rumpled skirts and held out a tentative hand for Jaquelyn to take. "I want to stay to see if I can help them, but perhaps someone should take Jaquelyn somewhere a little less frightening?"

To her surprise, Athos agreed with a curt nod. "D'artagnan could take her to Constance?"

"That sounds perfect!"

Within a few seconds, D'artagnan had been extracted from the room and was ushering Jaquelyn along with him back out into the yard. With Amorette's coat wrapped around her and her hair covering her eyes, the girl looked like a lost waif who had stolen a coat. Amorette knew D'artagnan would take good care of her though, and so she turned her attention back to the man beside her.

"Gaspard Paquet is asking to speak with you," he mumbled. "But you are under no obligation to do so of course. In fact, I'd rather you didn't. he seems quite the manipulative sort. I must admit I underestimated him back in his own home but here he has turned from the forlorn boy trying to do right by his father to a hissing and biting snake."

"I'll speak with him," agreed Amorette. "And if he thinks he shall treat me as his prey he can think again! I've a few choice words for him myself!"

She knew Athos wanted to smirk as she brushed past him and pushed open the door. She didn't know what she had expected, but when Amorette entered the room it was not as bad as she had feared. Gaspard sat in a chair in the middle of the room, with everyone else standing around him. Something had happened though in the few minutes that Athos had been absent. The three musketeer men present wore expressions of severe distaste and anger, whilst Denis cowered in the corner. When he caught sight of Amorette he rushed towards her and Athos made to jump in front of her. All that the boy wanted though was an embrace. Amorette let the boy wrap his arms around her waist and bury his head in her shoulder. Despite being only perhaps fourteen, he was already taller than Amorette.

"here's another one that should have gone into the care of Constance!" Amorette hissed in Athos' direction. They were still standing just inside the door of the rather large room and Amorette doubted if any of the others would hear a quiet conversation this far back.

"Treville wants him here," Athos replied coldly. "He thinks the boy's presence might influence Gaspard to talk more candidly. If he thinks his brother may be at risk, he might talk more."

There was little chance of that though, as Gaspard caught sight of Amorette at that moment. He grinned maliciously and Amorette didn't know whether it was because he was mocking his brother's weakness in his mind, or thinking upon something much more sinister. She gently prised Denis from her shoulder and smiled gently at him. "Denis I want to talk with your brother, but I'd like you to stand back here?"

The boy nodded eagerly, not needing any encouragement to stay as far from his brother as the room would allow. She turned and slowly stepped towards the middle of the room, reaching Aramis' side apprehensively. She didn't know what was about to happen and was therefore grateful that Athos remained close to Denis. The two small windows of the large room let in an unordinary amount of light, so that the floor behind Denis was bathed in the white sheen of an overcast afternoon. In Amorette's mind it all looked strangely atmospheric which was probably only adding to the boy's arrogance. Somehow Amorette knew as she gazed at his meaningful grin and unfeeling eyes that this was what he wanted.

"You wanted to speak with me Gaspard?" she asked tentatively.

He chuckled lightly. "I want to know what you can do for me Cometess! Help me out of this sticky situation will you?"

"Just you?" quizzed Amorette. "Or your brother and your wife also? Because all three of you will be quite the mean feat! I think I have the influence enough to secure the safety of your poor young wife, and perhaps I can persuade Captain Treville to drop any charges against your brother. You on the other hand, are another bargain altogether."

"Like father like son," mumbled Porthos dismissively. "Throwing your brother to the wolves to save your own neck!"

"A pointless bargain!" Treville added and Amorette nodded.

"I thought as much Captain. You see Gaspard, you may not have caused any lasting injury yesterday but that was lucky. Many people could have been badly hurt or worse! I don't know where on earth you learned to create such explosives but they were not as effective as pure gunpowder. But then, I think you only wanted to scare people didn't you?"

Gaspard frowned incredulously. "Scare people? I wanted to destroy people! I wanted to kill the King! The other men were not so agreeable to that action. They wanted to cause a little trouble and nothing more!"

"Your rabble couldn't have organised a knees-up in a brewery!" cried Aramis.

"That's what you think…" Gaston smirked.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Amorette.

"All in good time Cometess! Wait and see!"

Amorette couldn't help rolling her eyes at the boy's bravado. For all of his pretence he was really little more than a child. "I hope it comforts you then," she said as she took a step back and readied herself to leave, "That your wife and brother will be spared any punishment and will be well looked after! I will ensure it myself."

"He doesn't care about that!" Porthos cried. "He was trying to pin it all on his brother before you came in!" So that's what the disgusted expressions had been about.

"Would you really stoop that low?" Amorette cried as she stepped forward again. "Your brother worshiped you! I saw that yesterday! That's how you repay him for his love?"

"What would a jumped up dame like you know about love eh?" exclaimed Gaspard. "You flaunt around in your fancy dresses and snare any man with the biggest coin purse! You don't care a jot for my brother either! You're doing this so they give you a sainthood or something! You have no idea what we have suffered; what my father suffered!"

Amorette felt her eyebrows rise. "Apparently neither did you until today Gaspard!"

She took a swift step backwards as Gaspard spat aggressively at her feet. Aramis was behind him in seconds, pulling his head back by the short hair upon his head. "That's the second time you've done that today! I think perhaps you should remember that this Madam set out to help you today, to check upon you and your brother after the events of yesterday! She brought you food and even now after your rudeness she still proclaims she will try to help your wife and brother!"

Gaspard simply smirked as Aramis released his grip on the boy's hair and his head flew forwards again. "I think I'm done here!" Amorette announced as she took a step back.

"I think that's a good idea," muttered Aramis as he returned to her side. "He only wants to antagonise us. We more than likely won't get any answers from him!"

Amorette nodded and turned towards Athos at the back of the room. As they quitted it together though, Treville followed. "Madam, I understand that you want to help the wife and brother. The King will perhaps accept that in regards to the wife, but not the younger boy. He will want him to face punishment. I suggest that whatever form of help you wish to give them, it includes leaving Paris far behind. The city won't be entirely friendly and welcoming to the family of the man who tried to kill the King of France."

Amorette nodded swiftly as she turned to look at the solemn face of Denis. "I think I know where I can send them. They will be safe."

All four of them glanced up as two Red Guards began to walk their way from the end of the corridor. Amorette swiftly planted both of her hands on Denis' shoulders, determined that no one would tear her away from him.

"It appears our time is up Captain," Athos whispered. He turned to Amorette and added, "We weren't even supposed to be here." Swiftly Treville placed three sharp knocks upon the door and Porthos and Aramis emerged from within the room just in time to greet the Red Guards. "We were permitted to speak with the boy as a favour, but I hope you didn't have anything else to say to the boy Madam. It's not likely we shall be allowed near him again. The Red Guard have taken charge of this matter."

Treville seemed eager to leave the Bastille, shuffling them down the corridor as quickly as he could until they returned to the garrison yard. Having given up her coat to Jacquelyn, Amorette now felt the biting cold of the late October afternoon snapping at her skin. She schooled her features so that it didn't show and tried not to shudder. She was grateful that she had not coughed or sneezed overly as she much preferred Athos' company when he wasn't lecturing her on some matter.

Returning to the garrison and the warmth of Treville's office, Amorette let her guard drop a little and wandered towards the fire that had evidently only been lit a short while ago. With the heat gently stinging her cold hands, Amorette tuned out the men's conversation a little; her mind on the two young people that Constance was taking care of below in the yard before she was brought back into the room with the action of someone's cloak being thrown over her shoulders. She turned just in time to catch Athos' eye roll as he turned away from her again.

"Where will you send the wife and brother Cometess?" asked Treville as Amorette pulled Athos' cloak tighter around her.

"Buckingham will know what to do, and where to send them. He could likely harbour them here in Paris for a time if need be. All of his lodgings here would be perfectly safe for them. Denis will be no problem at all; Buckingham has friends galore who would be happy to take the boy in and tutor him. Jacquelyn might prove more of a dilemma but I think I could use my own contacts to solve it. I don't know how they would feel about being separated but for the time being it might be a good idea, just until things have blown over."

"I must confess, in this instance even I am inclined to think that the Duke of Buckingham might be the better option for such an act of secrecy, particularly where the boy is concerned." Treville took the vacant chair behind his desk and the room fell silent again for a few moments.

After a long pause, Porthos finally spoke. "One of us is going to have to go and hunt through the records to go and find this Barnabé Paquet you know."

"I think we should let D'artagnan do it," said Aramis lightly. "He hasn't had enough experience of looking for a needle in a haystack."

Porthos let out a chuckle but it died quickly on his lips when he caught Treville's withered expression. "If D'artagnan is going, then one of you shall go with him. He has little to no experience of those record stores. One of you should at least explain how the filing system works to make his search easier."

"I'll accompany D'artagnan," announced Athos. "Perhaps Aramis and Porthos are more needed here in case there are any other urgencies."

Treville contemplated Athos' words before a few seconds before he agreed. "I can't imagine there will be. The Red Guard have everything well in hand this side of the Seine but perhaps it is best you two stay within the confines of the garrison for the afternoon. All my other best men are at the Palace, it would be good to have you nearby."

"I just can't believe some fool told those boys that their father was a war hero," mused Porthos with a scratch of his chin.

"I'm sure they aren't the only young people to have been told such a lie," replied Aramis. "Two young boys who probably adored and admired their father. I can see why it would have been hard to tell them the whole truth in such an instance. Their father's death would have pained them enough without having to dwell upon the reality that he wasn't the man they built him up to be. Young men naturally desire to follow in their father's footsteps as they grow. Perhaps these 'friends' simply thought the boys needed a good example to live their lives by."

Amorette had forgotten for a while how sensitive and comforting Aramis' words could be at times. He seemed to have such a unique understanding of sentiment that was rarely found in any man, let alone a musketeer marksman. It was no wonder that women fell at his feet. Even without the almost Hispanic good looks, Aramis was the kind of soul any woman would consider herself lucky to have in her life.

"I can't help feeling sorry for them," Amorette mumbled. "Even Gaspard, and that's saying something!"

Athos was now leaning against the wall on the far side of the room, his face slightly obscured by the bright flow of light that burst through the window and almost cut the room in half. If she squinted, Amorette thought she could just make out his irritated frown. "Such a man should have thought of his children and the legacy he was leaving behind before he committed his crimes," he muttered grimly.

It was Amorette's turn to roll her eyes as Athos' grim mood well and truly returned. "Perhaps he didn't think," she suggested. "In the heat of battle all of you should know that time to think is a luxury."

"…And he should have better disciplined his sons," Athos continued as if Amorette had not even spoken. "Two boys such as the ones we met today were in need of a certain level of discipline; Gaspard in particular. It is clear even from our short time spent with him that he is not one to follow an authoritive figure. There is a darkness to the boy that cannot be explained by the father's history though. An evil, destructive streak that has more than likely been festering since birth. It makes one wonder if the father's actions were not in retaliation of the life he had back home in trying to control such a child."

Amorette felt her jaw drop. Still unable to see Athos entirely clearly, she took a few steps away from the heat of the fire into the room. It also brought her a few steps closer to the doorway. "Are we all to be blamed for the sins of our fathers then?" she cried.

She saw Aramis wince as he realised the gravity of Athos' words. Athos glared at her for a second before he grasped what she meant. Amorette turned on her heel to make her way towards the door. "That isn't what I meant!" Athos called after her.

"OH I THINK THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT YOU MEANT!" Amorette yelled over her shoulder at him as she yanked open the door and hurtled down the corridor.

"Ten Livre says she hits him!" chortled Porthos as Athos made to follow Amorette. His joke earnt him a disapproving glance from Captain Treville.

"Come now Denis, Jacquelyn!" Amorette held out her hand to take Jacquelyn's as she offered Constance a slightly strained smile.

A hand gently gripped her other wrist and Amorette wrenched it away as quickly as she could. Whirling around she snarled, "Don't you dare follow me!" From her shoulders Amorette tore his cloak and threw it at Athos' chest taking Jacquelyn's hand in her own and draped an arm around Denis' shoulders as she led them back out into the street again, too angry to even look back at Athos.

She heard Constance's now distant voice accusingly ask, "Oh Athos what have you said now?"

In Buckingham's lodgings in the Marias Amorette felt it safe to leave Denis in her friend's capable hands. After changing, she returned to the parlour to find her old friend talking quietly in the corner with Denis and breathed a sigh of relief. When she had shown up on his doorstep with the two waifs, Buckingham hadn't known where to look but just a few whispered words from her had convinced him to help her. Persuading anyone else in such an action most likely would have met adamant refusal but oddly Amorette knew that Buckingham would never refuse her anything. No matter what they went through together and apart, they would always resolutely come to one another's aid when called upon.

Jacquelyn was sitting quietly on a couch, picking at a thread in her skirts. When Amorette approached, the red rimed eyes tore themselves from her lap to look at the monstrosity of a dress before her. Amorette had returned to Buckingham's lodgings for more than one reason. The pink taffeta gown she wore was almost like a creation of Marzipan fashioned to look like a floating cloud. Another dress commissioned by Buckingham for her return to Paris that Amorette had yet to wear; simply because she detested it. It was not like anything she had worn before, and the old fashioned hat that more resembled a hood with a jewelled front made Amorette's features look rather chubby in her opinion.

Jacquelyn looked on in wonder though, and Amorette supposed that the young girl hadn't seen a dress like it up close. Amorette hoped she would certainly see many more like it though. Her anger at Athos coupled with her worries about Ninon de Larroque had taken over in the last half an hour; so much so that she had devised her own scheme to get rid of the recently returned Cometess and help Jacquelyn with one strike of the sword.

The short walk to the Rue Charlot did not offer Amorette any relief of anger. In fact if anything it increased. She was certain that Athos would be far too busy that evening to call upon her, and even if he did she wasn't sure that she wanted to see him. When they entered the grand townhouse on the crescent shaped street Amorette sucked in a careful breath. Pink heeled slippers clicking along the marble floor, she was led through the vast atrium into a small library. Jacquelyn had been instructed by the butler to wait outside. She stood and fussed with her skirts for what felt like a very long time but was really only a few minutes before the door opened again and the Cometess de Larroque entered the room. The woman looked much the same as Amorette had seen her the day before, except for the curious look that she threw Amorette.

"Madam Cometess de La Feuillette, your visit is not an expected one. May I offer you refreshment?" Ninon gestured to a decanter of wine as she bustled past.

"No thank you, Madam Cometess de Larroque. This is not a social call, but then I suppose you already know that don't you?"

Ninon sat on a couch and gestured for Amorette to sit opposite her. She did lower herself onto the couch, but her back remained ramrod straight in readiness to stand her ground. "Is this about Athos?" Ninon asked bluntly. "Only it's just that I saw you mooning after him yesterday at the Palace."

"Before I begin to explain my real reason for being here," declared Amorette, "I wish you to know that I am not here to tear chunks of hair or dress material whilst rolling around on the floor. I am not about to lower myself to cat fighting over the attentions of one man. I have heard that you Madam Cometess are back in Paris with an agenda. I wonder what on earth that could be? A rich husband perhaps? Are your funds depleting? I have it from a reliable source that you have been husband hunting the length and breadth of France!"

Ninon bristled at the insult Amorette had concocted from Buckingham's rushed explanation of what he knew of the other Madam but she seemed ready to rise to the challenge. "Well at least I am putting myself out there Madam Cometess. You on the other hand hid away in the country for years with little to no company at all!"

Amorette tried her best not to snort out loud. "Perhaps you are unaware but I was married last year Madam Cometess whereas you remain an old spinster; and I believe you too have been hiding out in the country, although not by your own free will. At least all of my arrangements where wholly lawful and unhidden." Amorette waved a hand before her face as Ninon opened her mouth to speak. "Believe it or not Madam I did not come here to trade insults with you all afternoon. I actually believe that you and I are frighteningly similar."

It was Ninon's turn to scoff. "And how do you come by that reasoning Madam?"

Amorette sighed as she leaned forward in her seat a little. "Let's forget the formalities Ninon; if I may call you that? You and I are equals; and yes, I think us very similar indeed. You see, we do not only share the same taste in men but also in philosophy and sociology. I happen to admire what you had built before you were forced to leave Paris. Female education is something that I believe to be of great importance myself. Perhaps the world was a little early for your way of thinking, but womankind is not. You gave young women an opportunity to better themselves in a world that wanted to trample upon them. I cannot explain how empowering it is to meet someone so driven and passionate about a cause I believe in too. You used your own money to create hope for women although I believe your influence might have waned a little in previous years. That is why I am here to ask a favour of you."

"A favour Amorette? I do not see how I could be of any help to you!" Ninon rose and poured herself another glass of wine as Amorette pondered just how to phrase her next words.

"Yes, a favour. You see, those riots that took place in the streets yesterday during the parade in the Latin Quarter of the city have created two very unexpected victims. I shall not give you names just yet, but a young man has been apprehended as the culprit. He had a brother who I have given over into the care of the Duke of Buckingham. He will see that the boy comes to no harm and is tutored well somewhere far away from Paris, but there was also a young wife who was ignorant of her husband's schemes. I do not think they were married for very long judging by her age and I believe that the two may need to be separated for even a little while to ensure their safety. I wonder if you might offer this young woman a place in your household for a time and impart some of your wonderful tutorage upon her. I am of course willing to pay whatever fee you see fit to charge."

Ninon's expression was schooled into one of polite indifference. "Amorette I appreciate the somewhat stilted praise you have bestowed upon myself but I am afraid the girl would receive no more benefit in my household than she would from yours. I no longer hold lessons for women. I am sure you have been made aware that when I was first banished from Paris it was because my teaching was deemed too radical for the young ears of the women of the city. I was only allowed to return and retrieve my title and lands after so long under the obligation that I involve myself in no further teaching or tutoring. My school is long disbanded. I am sorry for the young woman you wish to help, but aside from pointing her in the direction of a decent dressmaker, I have nothing more to offer her than you."

Amorette couldn't help grinning. "Do you take me for a complete fool Ninon? As I said you and I are similar. You see, I'm not the type of woman to give up on a cause I think still has merit and promise. I never really gave up on Athos and now I know why. I can't ever imagine you completely throwing away what you had built. I'm willing to bet that wherever it was you went, you had schools there too, well away from prying eyes. You and I both have gold and influence. It wouldn't take much digging to find out the real truth. As you will now be aware, the Duke of Buckingham is a particular friend. One word from me and he will find out every sordid detail and thought that ever ran through your mind. I know there are schools in the country with your name above the proverbial door.

"If you came here hoping to rekindle something with Athos now that my sister Ann is passed from this world, I urge you strongly to rethink such a notion. It has taken an exceedingly long time for Athos and me to get where we are today and I am not about to have it demolished by a fleeting fancy. You must understand that Athos and I have known each other for a very long time indeed. I have waited twenty-one years to reach this point of security and happiness with him. You will not take it from me. Athos has moved on, changed. What he and I have spans much more than the few days' company you spent together years ago. Whilst I understand the allure, he is not the man for you. Certainly not whilst you continue to defy the King's decrees. So now I reach my endpoint. Leave Paris and take the girl with you, and I won't share your secret. I have the ear of the Queen of France, and I doubt she would take much convincing."

"Are you threatening me?" Ninon cried incredulously. "What on earth would your beloved Athos say if he could see this side of you? These thorns that adorn his beautiful rose and prick even those who would be her allies!"

Amorette shook her head. "I'm not threatening you Ninon. I'm trying to help you. Sooner or later your antics in the country will come to light. I think perhaps that to stay in Paris and not carry on your teachings might drain the life out of you. You must have action in your life in some way or form after all. Within a few months, you would yet again be hiding young women within these walls. It will get you burnt at the stake; for real this time! If you were to leave Paris and go quietly into the country, then perhaps you might yet have a few years to carry out your mission of female education. You would also be helping young Jacquelyn. I do not like sitting before you in such a manner and asking such things of you. I truly do admire you although I'm sure you won't believe that. What you have built is important Ninon and one day the women of the future will thank you for it, but you're no use if you're dead! I think also that the people of the country will need you more than the women of Paris. Here there is affluence and wealth and marriage prospects are two a penny. There are country girls doomed to a life upon farms and fields who would benefit far more from schooling from a woman like yourself. I admire your dream, but it's no longer one to come true in Paris."

From within her dress Amorette plucked a heavy coin purse and offered it to the other woman. "Your declarations of wealth do not intimidate me Amorette. I know you came here in your flamboyant dress and with your pockets lined with gold to set me apart from the man we both share an attraction to. You should not have done so! In another life, we may have liked each other very much. I feel we might get on if a man were not between us both! You should have come to me as yourself and we may have talked candidly. Instead you chose to come as some insipid interpretation of your late sister and in so doing you have repelled me wholly and completely. Athos doesn't know you are here does he? Because if he did he would turn away in shame at the desperation you show. You will not deny that, for you would not show yourself upon my doorstep if you were not desperate. You really don't have the assurances of Athos' love or you would not be here.

"Alas I must conclude that I have little choice. If my staying in Paris means that you will out me before the King, then I have no choice but to leave. I will take the young woman with me, but I will not take your gold. It stinks of desperation! Perhaps with it you could purchase yourself a more flattering dress!"

Amorette felt anger well up inside her as Ninon critically looked her up and down. Her hands balled into fists, just hidden by the material of the skirt. "I am grateful that you will help Jacquelyn. She wait's outside and should not be permitted to venture out onto the streets for her own safety. There will be some who will have taken great offence at some of her husband's actions. I believe she may wish to write to the boy's brother and vice versa. I'd appreciate it if their communication was not hindered. She may write her letters via the Duke of Buckingham and he shall see that they reach the boy." Business concluded, Amorette suddenly couldn't wish to be away from the insipid Cometess.

She stood up and brushed down her skirts, checked that her hat was stable upon her head and nodded once to Ninon. "You have one week Ninon, after that you leave me little choice." She threw the coin purse down onto the little table between them muttering, "Take it as a gift as proof of my belief in your cause," and walked slowly backwards around the couch to the door, offering the other woman one last cold glare as she placed a hand on the door handle.

"Madam Cometess de la Feuillette."

"Madam Cometess de Larroque."

Their last words to each other spoken in clipped tones, Amorette rushed from the house and only stopped briefly to say goodbye to Jacquelyn.

It was only when Amorette surged into her rooms in the Palace and placed herself before the mirror that the reality of what she had done that afternoon sank in. In her anger, she had struck out at the other woman in a way she had never done before. Her anger had mostly been for Athos but clearly there had been other matters bubbling under the surface. Ninon had been perfectly right in saying that anger drove Amorette to resemble her sister. The dress was certainly something that Ann would have worn and Amorette's attitude that afternoon had come from somewhere very dark indeed. She had praised and simpered, attempting to flatter Ninon with jaded hidden insults that were not of her own creation. That was who her sister had been, and Amorette had hated that side of Ann.

Although Amorette little resembled her sister save for her shapely nose, there was something in her reflection in that moment that announced a great change in her. Today she had fought rather immorally for a man she had loved for a long time. Ninon had been right in saying Athos would not like this side of her. It would remind him too much of the woman that he had finally shaken off after so long. She should have approached the whole thing differently but there was still a niggling part of Amorette's brain that cared not how the outcome was won. She had gotten what she wanted, even if the methods were a little uncouth. There really wasn't so much harm done, with Ninon to be soon gone it would not matter how she managed to kill two birds with one stone.

Amorette halted those thoughts immediately as, disgusted and repulsed at herself she grabbed for the chamber pot under her bed and was violently sick.

 _ **Well, that was Ninon told I think! All that remains now is to wait and see if she really does leave Paris! Realistically, Amorette would likely be good friends with a woman like Ninon due to the fact they are both feminists, but I like this darker side of Amorette that is willing to fight for what she has now.**_


	48. Chapter 48

_**I only own Amorette.**_

Amorette let out a low groan as she woke to a stabbing sensation in her side. Sitting up on the bed to relieve the strain of the corset on her sides, she glanced down at the horrid pink monstrosity of a dress that she still wore. In the twilight, it had lost some of its lustre, or perhaps it was that she was not of a notion to spare any the dress ill thoughts. She did feel a little better than she had done earlier but a headache was beginning to settle behind her eyes. There was just enough light left in the room for her to pad in her bare stockinged feet across the room and out into the parlour where she poured herself a glass of wine.

The fires and candles were all out, so evidently Tilda had not been in whilst Amorette was asleep. Checking the door, Amorette realised that was because she had pulled the latch behind her earlier, thus locking the door. Tilda probably thought that she was still out. Despite her sullen mood from earlier still being firmly in place, Amorette wouldn't have minded the company of her maid so much. She poured herself a glass of wine and threw herself down onto one of the couches without lighting any candles. There was something about the still almost darkness that comforted her a little.

Amorette began to mull over her thoughts one at a time to try and ease her headache a little. Her first thought was for Denis and Jacquelyn who would now more than likely feel lost and alone. It did bother Amorette that she had separated them but it had been the best thing to do, and they could always be reunited in a few months' time once the dust had settled. She hoped Buckingham would have left Paris by now with Denis for the young boy was the most at risk of the two. If Amorette was honest with herself, it was not her trust or distrust of Buckingham that wavered though. Her mind was almost all for Ninon de Larroque.

Amorette was completely aware that she had behaved like a petulant child that afternoon both in regards to Athos and Ninon, but there was still a large part of her that did not feel sorry for it. She had meant everything that she said to Ninon in regards to what she was doing for woman-kind. She really did think it a worthwhile enterprise and thoroughly admired the woman for it. The young women that Ninon took under her tutorage would surely attest to Ninon's good care of them and Amorette did believe that under different circumstances that she and Ninon may have gotten on rather well. The gruff musketeer that came between them was reason enough for Amorette to be overly cautious of the woman though. Ninon was fair, blonde and uncommonly pretty. She was accomplished, intelligent and independent. Amorette could certainly see why Athos had been attracted to her all those years ago and may perhaps still be.

Ninon had an air about her that Amorette considered familiar. It was a confidence that most noble women of the court had but Amorette knew that it was not a confidence that she possessed herself. Compared to Ninon, Amorette was a lot more baggage and trouble for someone like Athos. She didn't like to think that a man as steadfast and loyal as he would let his heart stray but Amorette couldn't help those thoughts from influencing her. Somewhere within her mind she knew those thoughts were foolish, but she supposed the fact that it had taken so long for Athos to see her differently made her doubt his feelings.

After her outburst, Amorette wouldn't have been surprised if Ninon had refused to help Jacquelyn and she still worried for the girl. Ninon could so easily change her mind and throw her out onto the streets. Amorette didn't think she would though. Still in complete certainty of Ninon and herself being very similar, Amorette knew somehow that Ninon was completely incapable of backing down in regards to something that she wanted to fight for. Both women were stubborn and bold and therefore fully prepared to fight a losing battle no matter the cost to themselves.

It was wrong of Amorette to doubt the woman in that regard, but she couldn't shake off the inclination that Ninon would have tried for Athos again by the time she left Paris. Amorette supposed that she would do the same where she in that position. When she was younger, she would have shirked away from the idea of propositioning the man but perhaps it was because Amorette had more confidence in her own self or rather that now she felt that she had little else left to loose.

If she saw Ninon again, Amorette resolved to try for politeness. Depending on the other woman's behaviour she might also consider apologising for her harshness earlier that day, but only if Ninon too was courteous. She certainly didn't want to apologise to Athos though. In hindsight Amorette could readily see that his remark about children being somehow responsible for their parents actions and words had only been in relation to the case of Denis and Gaspard, but he hadn't given a thought to how to phrase it better. Instead it had almost been a barbed insult to her. She wouldn't shout at him again in anger, but rather explain how what he had said had caused offence.

In her teenage years, Amorette had indeed for a long time considered her words and actions in relation to her father's treatment of her. She had often wondered if it were her own inconsistencies and failings that brought about his bullying and violent nature so much so that part of her had been convinced she was to blame for all of it. Since she had left his care though at fifteen, Amorette had become well aware that she was absolved of all guilt. Her father was greedy, manipulative and destructive. Amorette knew her fair share of delinquent upper class youngsters who had over time deserved a good thrashing for their behaviour, but as a reasonably well behaved daughter, she had not been the one to turn her father into a monster. That wasn't the sort of thing that one learnt over time; no he had been born that way. Lord Barclay had come into the world an evil and calculating monster who had been handed exactly what he wanted on a plate his whole life.

That was why Athos' words had hurt her so. She knew ultimately that because she rarely spoke of her relationship with her father to Athos or anyone else for that matter, he was not to know how painful such things were to hear. That was indeed something that Amorette needed to explain to him. Athos did need to learn a little tact though. Surely he knew enough though to ascertain what was politically correct and what wasn't.

Amorette scratched her head in confusion as she remembered that Athos didn't know the events that had taken place the day that he had told her that he was marrying Ann. He had no knowledge whatsoever of her father's irrational beating of her and Amorette wanted it to stay that way. She had in fact every intention of attending the wedding but her appearance had warranted that impossible. Henry had been right at the time; in that if she had gone, Athos would have been furious to see her so bruised and injured. He might even have called off the wedding. That was not something Amorette had wanted even then. He had chosen her sister, and she couldn't have borne the pity that would have been directed her way. In fact, Amorette didn't think she could even bear it now. It was not pity that she wanted for the events of that day for it had been the turning point for her. She had no longer inwardly chastised herself for her father's actions. Amorette actually saw that day and those that followed as a remarkable beginning of a new lease of strength within her.

It was something that was all quite clear in her head, but how on earth did she try and put it all into words in a way that showed her strength? Amorette always thought that telling others about her life made them think of her as weak and vulnerable. She didn't want to be seen as that. Perhaps she had better not make a habit of letting her anger out upon old love interests of Athos if she wanted to keep her respectable image intact. Athos hadn't pressed any matters with her at all if he thought she really didn't want to talk about something, so surely that meant that he was willing to wait for Amorette to explain things at her own pace? He had better be, because Amorette didn't think it was something she could just blurt out all at once.

Vaguely Amorette thought she caught the sound of the patrol marching rather too quickly along the corridor outside and she was reminded of just how late it must be. She considered getting undressed and the notion did appeal to her as her corset was now pinching her sides rather painfully but she wanted to be ready should Buckingham come by in need of her help in some way. She knew if there were any problems regarding Denis, he would come straight to her. Her hair had come loose whilst she slept so Amorette tugged at the few remaining hair pins until they fell onto the couch beside her.

She had begun to doze lightly again when Amorette was awoken by a slight knocking sound. Thinking it had come from the door that led out into the corridor she turned to look at it groggily; not at all expecting the musketeer to have shown up at all that evening. Another slight knock reached her ears and Amorette realised it was coming from her bed chamber. She sat up warily and wondered if Athos had snuck in whilst she was asleep. If there was anyone who could lift the latch from the other side of the door it was a musketeer. Would he do that though; break into a Madam's room whilst she slept and not announce himself?

"Athos? Is that you?" Amorette called as she stood and took hesitant steps towards the bed chamber.

Athos had finished scratching out his report with a quill not half an hour before, and his mind was already three streets away in the tavern that he normally frequented with his friends. He wanted nothing more than to bury his head in a bottle or two of wine and forget that the day had even happened but his plan had been slightly hampered by Treville's impromptu late night meeting. He had offered to stay within the walls of the garrison until his captain returned whilst he finished his report but had realised soon after Treville left that there was no alcohol within the office. He should have asked Aramis and Porthos to bring him some wine from the tavern before they sat down to their own drinks; or in Porthos' case the card table. As far as he was aware, D'artagnan had gone home to Constance and there wasn't to be another changing of the guard until first light. There was the occasional shout or bark of laughter as off duty musketeers crossed the yard below, but other than that Athos had been able to work in relative silence.

Now though, he simply observed the empty yard and the archway that led out into the Paris streets with a melancholy mood that he knew could only be remedied by alcohol that night. He hadn't been drinking much at all of late except the odd glass of wine he shared here and there with Amorette but tonight her presence would not be a soothing remedy. She always had been a little sensitive and of course he had not meant the words he had spoken as an insult to her, but he did see how she might have taken them out of context. In hindsight he knew that he should have thought before he spoke. He was so well accustomed to saying what he wanted in front of his three friends and on occasion even his captain that the words had slipped out without him realising just what it was he had said. He knew though that Amorette would calm down and come to understand he had not meant to offend her. She knew that he had a gruff and awkward manner at the best of times and would likely have forgiven him completely by the time the morning came around.

His thoughts were disrupted by a sudden movement down below followed by someone calling his name. Porthos barrelled through the archway into the yard, followed closely behind by a troop of Red Guards. Athos flew out of Treville's office and rushed down the corridor to take the steps two at a time until he reached his friend. His only thought was that Porthos had been caught duelling Red Guards again on the street.

"Porthos you are sorely lucky that Treville has not yet returned-" he started but one look at the Red Guards told him that they had in fact all arrived here together with the same intention and he halted mid-sentence.

"Mass breakout of the Bastille!" gasped his friend. "All off duty men required to report there now!"

"W…what?" Athos stammered. "How is that even possible?"

"Someone sprung them out!" exclaimed Porthos. "I only heard so early because I was playing cards with this lot," he said as he gestured behind him to the Red Guards. "I alerted Aramis, and he's gone to fetch Treville and D'artagnan. You and I need to round everyone up and get over there now!"

Athos glanced behind him to the table where he had left his hat earlier that evening and lunged to grab it. "You do that, I'm going to the Palace." As he turned back he caught sight of Treville appearing out of the gloom of the archway.

Oddly, Athos thought he saw a look of understanding cross Treville's features for a split second and knew his captain would not argue with him. "Athos if all is well at the Louvre then come and find us when you can."

Someone had lit a candle and Amorette could discern the soft glow it emitted though the crack in the door. Lightly, Amorette placed her fingertips on the door and pushed ever so gently. The first thing she caught sight of was one of her trunks lying open on the floor, with the contents strewn everywhere. If she'd had the chance she would have backed away but at that moment a figure in the corner of the room glanced up and caught sight of her in the doorway. Gaspard stared back at Amorette with a look of pure hatred upon his face and she froze where she stood.

"How the hell…."

"Did I get out of the Bastille?" he finished for her in a sneer. "I did tell you to wait and see Cometess didn't I?"

"Yo…y…You're working for someone; someone who sprung you from your prison?" stammered Amorette. "Was this the plan from the beginning? Trick your way into the Bastille with a mock riot and then break everyone out?"

Gaspard shook his head levelly as he fingered the catch of his pistol. "So now you are belittling my cause? The riots were real and I still did what I did for my father! It just so happened to co-inside with someone else's rather grand plans!"

"Who? Who else is involved?"

Gaspard drew the pistol up until it pointed a little shakily at Amorette's head. "I don't give a damn about all that! Why do you think I'm here? Tell me where my brother is!"

"You've had a wasted journey Gaspard. I don't know here Denis is," Amorette lied. She sincerely hoped he was no longer ensconced in Buckingham's lodgings. "Please don't tell me that you had the chance to escape the city and that instead you came here to me? That was a foolish decision, for you will surely face punishment for this!" It was then that the slightly ajar door behind Gaspard became visible to Amorette and she gasped. "How did you get into my rooms? The doors were locked from the inside! Who told you that there was another way into these rooms?"

Gaspard grinned devilishly. "The truth Cometess is that I did not personally know the men who came to aid us in our escape. They spoke English I think, but the accent was strange. They also told me where I might find you and how to reach your rooms without being noticed. Whoever they were, they knew I'd kill you. It seems to me I'm not the only one who dislikes you Madam!"

Amorette shook her head in confusion as she tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together. A man who spoke English in an odd accent, who knew his way around the Bastille and apparently, the Louvre Palace. Amorette could count on two hands the people who knew of the secret passage linked to her rooms; the Queen, the musketeers, Buckingham, herself and _Henry Fitzgerald_. Amorette's blood suddenly ran cold. She supposed that the English language would sound strange to a French boy if spoken in a Scot's accent, but why on earth would Henry send Gaspard to her when the boy clearly had malicious intent.

Gaspard was eagerly watching the cogs turning in Amorette's mind; seeming pleased by the fact that someone she knew had caused all this trouble. Amorette didn't know what else to do apart from continue to deny knowledge of Denis' whereabouts. She did so with her hands held up in surrender but she noticed that Gaspard's grip on the pistol grew steadier with each moment that passed. Amorette doubted whether he would really fire at her though. He wanted to know where his brother was, and killing her would render that impossible.

"I don't think you understand me Cometess!" Gaspard yelled. "If you do not have knowledge of where my brother is, then I no longer have need of you! If you do know, perhaps you might tell me and then you may be spared."

Amorette didn't believe him for a second. There came the sound of more footsteps outside in the corridor and Gaspard turned to shut the linen cupboard door and lock it quickly. Not needing any encouragement whatsoever, Amorette took her chance and raced back out into the parlour towards the door. She pulled on the door handle repeatedly, forgetting that the latch was still in place. She stopped though when she heard the lick of the catch being released on the pistol. Slowly she turned to find Gaspard approaching her from across the room.

"Gaspard, you are just a child, I know you don't want to kill me. I'd speak for you if I could but your actions have rendered that impossible. I did what I could for your brother and wife but after this I certainly think there is absolutely nothing more I can do for you! I am sorry for it, but your actions are your responsibility! You must understand that your fate and that of your brothers is a consequence of your actions!"

"All of this pleading is not going to help you Cometess!" Gaspard roared, his hand shaking a little again. "Every available soldier is trying to contain the breakout of the Bastille. You cannot buy enough time to escape or be rescued! Everyone's concerns are elsewhere! The King and Queen are safely locked away on the other side of the Palace! There's no one here to come to your aid!"

Amorette felt her back slam into the door as Gaspard still advanced towards her, pistol cocked in her direction. The force of her body pressing against the door must have alerted someone on the other side because at that precise second the door handle still held in Amorette's hand began twist and turn as someone tried to push the door open. "Cometess?" Came the muffled cry from the corridor. "Cometess come to the door!" The door handle rattled again and Amorette glanced up towards the latch above her head, wondering if she could manage to throw Gaspard off and unlock the door.

Gaspard caught the movement of her eyes though and in a split second he had gripped her wrist and flung her across the room. With a yelp of surprise Amorette toppled over the coffee table and onto the floor. Immediately someone banged heavily upon the door with their fist. "Amorette?" _Athos._ He thumped the door again and Amorette knew that he'd try to break the door down if she didn't answer him soon. Somehow, Athos must have figured out what was going on.

As she tried to pull herself to her feet, Amorette caught sight of Gaspard dragging the heavy chest of drawers against the wall until it rested against the door and just in time, because someone aimed a ferocious kick at the door. There was more muffled shouting from the other side as the door remained intact, thanks only to the chest of drawers.

Gaspard finally turned to look at Amorette as he leaned against the manoeuvred chest of drawers. "Believe me when I say this Cometess. No one including you goes to or from this room until you tell me where my brother is!"

Amorette shook her head meekly as tears pricked her eyes. She was absolutely sure now that the right thing to do was protect Denis from his older brother. She knew Gaspard more than likely meant this brother no harm but it was the manipulative influence that worried Amorette more. "I know you love and care for your brother Gaspard. That is why you must let him go! What I don't understand though is why you put him through all of this! You made him an unwilling conspirator in your crimes for no reason at all other than to try and save yourself. If you love him then why throw him into the line of fire to protect yourself? Don't you see how wrong that is? That is why your brother must be allowed to move on with a new life! I know you do love him, so give him this chance! Let him leave Paris and go somewhere new where he will receive a good education and will be well looked after! My friends will ensure it!"

Gaspard had seemed to be considering her words, but Amorette's last statement floored him. He launched himself towards her and fired one shot into the celling in anger before he shoved the barrel of the pistol into her temple. "Your friends ensured that my brother would lose the only family he had left! Those musketeers have torn our family apart!"

"That was not my fault!" gasped Amorette. "I told you that your actions have consequences. You know if there had ever been any chance of you being granted a lesser punishment than your execution, then you blew it entirely when you crossed the threshold into the palace tonight! Holding me hostage is not going to get your brother back!"

Suddenly there was the sound of splintering wood from Amorette's bed chamber. Gaspard's face dropped into a frown and Amorette sucked in a deep breath. He had not considered that anyone else would know of the hidden passageway, but it appeared Athos had remembered all about it; at least Amorette hoped that it was Athos and not one of Gaspard's fellow prisoners from the Bastille. Gaspard tore into the bed chamber and Amorette followed, kicking her ransacked belongings out of the way as she went. The door was not yet open, but they could see the force being put upon it from the other side. Another kick and the sound of splintering wood roused Gaspard into action and he dragged Amorette with him with his hand covering her mouth to stand against the wall where they would be behind the door when it eventually gave way and opened.

It didn't take long for the lock to give way, and with it came the sound of the wood tearing itself away from the door frame. The door swung open quickly and Athos tore into the room, his eyes roaming into each corner but the one that Amorette and Gaspard were hidden in. out of nowhere Amorette was thrown to the ground, only turning to look up in time as the butt of Gaspard's pistol crashed into the back of Athos' head. The musketeer made no sound as he slumped to the floor but Amorette let out a growl of anger and launched herself at Gaspard. He held her at bay easily with the simple flick of his pistol.

"I think even you can comprehend this Cometess, but make any sudden or rash movements and I blow his brains out!"

Amorette nodded her agreement to comply mutely as she glanced down at the unconscious Athos on the floor. There didn't seem to be any blood from where Amorette was standing, which reassured her a little but she gasped when Gaspard took Athos by the feet and began to drag him roughly into the parlour. In the little moonlight that illuminated the room Amorette followed them into the parlour in time to witness Gaspard dragging Athos into place before the fire. Someone was still kicking at the door that led out into the lady's corridor and Amorette suddenly understood that Gaspard thought there were musketeers out there. He wanted them to enter the room and find Athos lying motionless before the fire. His motive was very clear in that second, and Amorette realised that Gaspard didn't intend for any of them to get out of the room alive.

Gaspard had moved to the windows and seemed to be observing the lawns below them for any movement. Tears now cascading down her cheeks freely, Amorette gave them no thought and dropped to the floor beside Athos. She gently took his face in her hands to observe his head. She moved her hand hesitantly into his hair and found the small swelling of a lump on his head. Pulling her hand away, in the near gloom Amorette was just able to discern that there was no blood there at all. She tapped his face lightly as she gently whispered to him, willing him to wake up. His breaths were deep and strong but with each second that passed, Amorette grew more worried. She began to shake Athos by the lapels of his doublet and frantically whispered to him but still he did not wake.

"Now I think we may reach a complete understanding," muttered Gaspard from just above them and Amorette turned quickly to find him bearing down upon them, pistol trained on Athos. Without a second thought Amorette jumped up to stand and face Gaspard, her legs spreading wider so that she completely concealed and protected Athos. "You care for the musketeer," Gaspard mused. "I did not see that before, but it only helps me. You will now be aware of the gravity of the situation Madam. Tell me what I want to know about my brother's whereabouts or I will shoot this man!"

Amorette felt her hands begin to shake uncontrollably as she tried to control her whirling mind and think of a way to buy herself and Athos more time. "Gaspard this man is a soldier like your father was! He fights for France and the King and Queen like your father once did. Men like him are the reason you were protesting and rioting in the first place! How will his death accomplish anything?"

Gaspard snorted. "This man may carry the name of musketeer but he has no honour!"

"You don't believe what he told you about your father? You still think he was a hero?" Amorette asked incredulously.

"Why should I believe his word? My father's friends told me that my father died a hero!"

"Gaspard those people lied to you for the right reasons," sighed Amorette. "They did not want you and your brother to think badly of your father! They wanted him to be an example to you. He had passed on and I suppose they thought that dwelling on his past deeds would not help you! They wanted you to move on with your lives and hold your father dear in your hearts! They meant well, but yes, they were wrong to lie to you! Athos did nothing but convey the truth."

Gaspard backed away a little and lowered his pistol. When he spoke, it was in a much quieter voice than before, as if he had almost given up. "Is it not your turn to convey the truth Madam?"

Amorette felt her resolve weaken. Gaspard was right. She could not blame anyone else for lying when she was too. "I gave Denis over into the care of the Duke of Buckingham. That much I did not tell you; but I do not know where they are now. I asked the Duke not to tell me where he would take the boy. They are likely far from Paris now in any direction."

Gaspard was silently still for a few moments and Amorette could discern the shifting of something beyond the door behind them. If it was musketeers out there, she hoped they would not take rash action. She wasn't sure if Gaspard could withstand the shock and not shoot.

"You gave him over to some dandy who will likely train him as a slave?" questioned Gaspard suddenly. "A dandy and an Englishman no less! You're right you know! There's no way out of this for me now. I may as well take with me those who were spiteful to me!"

Amorette spread her arms wide as she realised Gaspard had finally cracked. "I will not let you hurt him! I won't. You'll have to kill me first. Perhaps you do not understand the concept of love as well as you should Gaspard! If you loved your brother you would have wanted him to be safe and free of all of this! That's what love is! You don't get to take the one I love from this world whilst I'm still capable of stopping you!"

The hand holding the pistol was very steady now, and Amorette let out an inaudible gasp as a hand suddenly clamped itself around her ankle. She glanced down, but it was hidden by her vast skirts. She dropped her hand down behind her skirts, hoping against hope that the hand would find its way into hers.

"Stop me?" cried Gaspard. "Cometess there's no stopping me now! I've nothing to lose! You were the cause of that! You think I won't kill you because you showed my brother and I kindness, but that means nothing to me! Kindness in this world eventually gets you killed!"

A steel-like expression washed over Gaspard's features then as he aimed his pistol at her head and she sucked in a breath as something cold and metallic pressed itself into the hand that rested behind her skirts. Gaspard had entirely missed the action of Athos passing Amorette his pistol in his anger. There was no time though for Amorette to question the action or think of what to do next. She reacted on instinct and aimed her pistol and without waiting a beat she fired, ignoring everything that Athos had ever taught her. Gaspard fired too a second later, his shot going wide as he fell backwards to land on the floor with a thud. The pistol fell from Amorette's hand and she recoiled away from it warily. Her hands were still shaking as she tentatively took a step towards the boy and hovered over him. There was no doubt that the shot had killed Gaspard. Amorette let out a stifled sob as she dropped to the floor again as Athos let his head droop. He had regained consciousness for enough time to enable her to save them both, but he was out cold again in seconds.

Amorette shook him again, her sobs now racking her chest. "Athos please wake up! Athos!" There was the sound of splintering wood again as finally someone was managing to break through the door and the blockade of the heavy chest of drawers. Amorette paid it no heed, her mind going blank as real fear gripped her. "You don't get to die on me Athos! You can't! I need you!"

 _ **I think she's being a bit dramatic! But what are us women if not dramatic at the best of times eh? You'll have to wait until the next chapter to find out what happens to Athos! Personally, I think the next chapter is possibly my favourite of them all ;)**_


	49. Chapter 49

_**I said this chapter was my favourite, and I meant that. Once you've read it though, you might think differently of me for that ;) Just a warning that this chapter is a little on the racy side. I've never written anything like this before, so I don't know if it's too much or too little for the story and the characters (but let's face it, Athos isn't really going to be the Fifty Shades type is he? I think he'd just be pleased to get action in any form). This is how it happened inside my head though, so I tried to keep to that as closely as I could. I think it certainly suits Amorette. Athos; I'm not so sure on! You can let me know what you think!**_

 _ **In this chapter, we finally have the explanation in a way, of why Fabien was in this story at all. I'm sure Amorette running off to marry him did irritate some of you who wanted Amorette and Athos together a little sooner, but there's a bit of speech in this chapter that was the first thing I thought of when I began this story. That was why I invented Fabien.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

"Athos!" Amorette sobbed as she felt the lump on the side of his head again.

With a dragging sound and a sickening thump the set of drawers and door gave way to Porthos' Strength. Once through the door he pushed the set of drawers back the way they had come and stepped into the room. He strained his eyes against the near-darkness, turning in the direction of Amorette's sobs. She glanced up as Aramis and D'artagnan followed, a worried frown encasing all of their features for a few seconds until from below a gruff voice groggily said, "Stop being so dramatic."

Amorette's head shot down to stare at Athos who lifted a hand gingerly to the side of his head. He sat up with a groan and ignored Amorette's attempts to push him back down. He didn't protest though when she helped him move backwards a little to lean his back against the bottom of the couch.

"Someone should fetch a doctor," Amorette called to the room as D'artagnan lit a few candles.

Porthos chuckled lightly. "Yeah, good luck with that one!" he said as he nodded towards Athos.

"I'm fine," Athos muttered. "Aramis can examine me if he so wishes but there's no need for a doctor. If we called for one every time one of us hit our heads we would need one in permanent residence at the garrison. He raised a hand then to wipe away some of Amorette's still falling tears. "Are you alright?" He asked her.

Amorette stared at him incredulously. "You were the one who took a knock to the head!"

"I meant about that," he said with a reserved nod towards the other end of the room.

Amorette's shot had hit Gaspard in the chest, killing him almost instantly. He lay upon her rug in a pool of his own blood. Amorette couldn't bring herself to look at him any longer than to ascertain yet again that he was very much dead. "He would have killed us both," she muttered only loud enough for Athos to hear. Aramis retrieved a sheet and placed it over the corpse as they all watched.

"You don't have to justify your actions to me," Athos replied.

Amorette shook her head as she started to cry again. She hit him lightly on the chest. "Why did you come bursting in like that Athos? You're lucky he only knocked you on the head! He could have shot you as soon as he set eyes on you! Why would you be so foolish?"

Athos sighed heavily as he tugged at Amorette's ostentatious pink skirts until he was able to drag her onto his lap. "Most likely for the same reason that you stepped between me and him just now! That could have been called foolish too! Perhaps we will simply have to look upon those actions differently."

Amorette felt her jaw dropping as his cobalt blue eyes bore into hers, as bright as a pair of sparkling sapphires despite the knock to the head. Was he saying what she thought he was saying; without actually saying the words? She felt his hand resting gently at her waist and let him pull her into his chest. In that moment Amorette didn't care who saw; she leaned in as he captured her mouth with his in a passionate kiss.

When they finally broke away for air, Amorette didn't even need to turn around to know that all eyes were upon them in that moment. She felt her cheeks heat at the silence throughout the room and scrambled away from Athos back onto the floor where she had been sitting a few moments ago. No one else seemed to share her trepidation though; they were all grinning rather mischievously.

Little over an hour later, Amorette had changed into a more demure dress and was standing on her tiptoes in the doorway of the tavern where she knew the musketeers often drank. It was still busy despite the lateness of the evening and Amorette afforded that to the Bastille breakout. Everyone had congregated here to wait for more news, although there wasn't likely to be any until morning. The city gates had been closed and any prisoners still within the city would have likely one to ground for fear of being caught by one of the many patrols. Treville seemed to have shared that opinion for he had ordered that his four best men take leave of their duties to rest until morning.

Amorette caught sight of D'artagnan as he approached the bar and began to push through the crowd to meet him. "How is he?" she yelled to the younger musketeer above the din and he didn't need to ask her meaning.

D'artagnan smirked. "You know Athos! He wouldn't tell a soul if he were at death's door; but on the whole of it he seems fine. I'd say it's nothing a few more glasses of wine won't fix."

He paid the proprietor, lifted the two bottles of wine presented to him and led Amorette further into the tavern, towards the back wall where his three friends were sat. D'artagnan ignored his earlier seat beside Athos and took another empty chair at the other side of the table. Amorette hesitantly slid onto the bench beside Athos and glanced at him warily. "How are you feeling now?" she asked.

Her hand came to rest on his upper arm and as Athos turned his body towards her, his hand found her waist. It was a very affectionate display for both of them, but it seemed that every part of their private lives was oozing into the public domain in times of strife or worry. "I feel fine," he muttered. "I barely felt any pain at all."

Amorette raised incredulous eyebrows at him. "Athos there is a great big lump on the side of your head! I felt it myself!"

Even as Athos' hand came up to gently touch the affected area of his head he shook it gently at her. "Aramis says there's no lasting damage! As I said to you, we've all taken knocks to the head before, most of them with the butt of a musket or two. In fact, the boy didn't swing his weapon with a great deal of strength."

"It was enough to render you out cold!"

Aramis let out a light chuckle. "Madam, he will have a headache for a few days but that's about the sum of it. It's nothing new to him after all," the marksman said with a nod to Athos' near empty bottle of wine on the table before him.

Sensing herself outnumbered, Amorette gave up her protests and let herself slide along the bench a little more until she could feel Athos' outstretched arm snake its way around the small of her back. He was talking to Porthos now, but Amorette thought she caught him turning to glance at her every so often. She sat in silence as all four of them conversed, but she heard very little of the conversation. Amorette's mind was so far removed from the room that they could have called her by name and she would not have known.

It was remarkable, how the simplest of actions had changed everything within her mind. Her thoughts were not what they had been earlier that day at all and Amorette knew she would never think that way again. Athos had once again proven himself not only as a musketeer and as her friend, but as the man she loved who might just love her in return; even if he had not been able to bring himself to say the words to her earlier. He might have died when he had burst into her room like that alone and Amorette couldn't for the life of her think why his friends would have agreed to such a plan. Surely they must have known the danger it entailed; but then again Amorette had been on the wrong side of a temperamental Athos more than once. She knew he was not a man to be argued with once his guard was up.

She leaned into his space ever so slowly and let her hand fall gently to his inside leg. Athos head snapped around towards her so quickly that Amorette was sure the others would have noticed her action but it appeared the table had concealed it. She let her gaze wander back to Athos', which was now trained on her. In that split second Amorette knew how the night would end. There was a tension so thick between them that Amorette couldn't look away from his eyes even if the world were crumbling away around them. He knew that it was in the air too, for he inconspicuously let his hand fall on top of Amorette's where it lay and squeezed in mutual agreement.

The motion had Amorette sucking in in an audible breath and a few seconds later Athos did the same. Amorette tried to religiously school her features back to something resembling simple curiosity for the benefit of the others around the table. She pulled her hand away from his, sure that if he held it any longer, neither of them could be held responsible for their actions. _It was going to happen; tonight._

"I still don't understand why you burst in alone like that," Amorette spoke in an attempt to return to normality. "How did you even know to come to me?"

"I think we'd have been hard pushed to get him to go anywhere else!" Chuckled Porthos.

"One of us would have been needed at the Palace eventually," agreed Aramis.

Athos sighed heavily as he lifted his glass and took a large gulp of wine before eventually explaining his earlier thought process. "When Porthos brought the news that there had been a break out of the Bastille, I knew I should warn you. There was the slim chance that Gaspard might have been amongst the men who escaped. Although I did not seriously consider that he would head for the Palace. You should have locked your door though. I tell you that often enough."

Amorette sighed heavily as he finally turned back to her to throw an admonishing look her way. Whilst it was true that she did often leave her door unlocked in case he should come to her late at night, it had not been the case that evening. "I did lock my door! That's just it," Amorette announced as all four men suddenly grew much more interested. "Gaspard came into my room the same way you did Athos! He knew about the passageway that links mine and the Queen's rooms. That's how he got into the Louvre. The Queen herself, Henry Fitzgerald, Treville and all of us currently seated at this table are the only ones who know about that passageway, so someone had to tell the boy. This is what I'm worrying over; he said that the breakout was caused and led by a man who spoke English in an odd accent."

"How did a boy like Gaspard even know it was English that he spoke?" queried D'artagnan.

Amorette shrugged. "Perhaps it was only a few words that he recognised but all of that points to Henry Fitzgerald. Why though would one of my oldest friends plan a mass breakout of the Bastille to coincide with Gaspard's riots and send him to kill me? It makes no sense!"

Athos' troubled expression told Amorette that she wasn't going to like what he said next, but she would have to hear and consider it thoroughly. Her bridges with Henry Fitzgerald were now well and truly burnt and Amorette needed to stop defending the man who had more than likely tried to have her killed.

"How do you know the break out and Gaspard were connected?" Athos asked then in a slight change of tack.

"Gaspard told me so himself," Amorette replied.

"We have no proof that it was your Scottish friend," mumbled D'artagnan. "But the fact remains, he's the only one with knowledge of that passageway who would pass it on to another."

Aramis gently scratched his chin through his beard. "We are overthinking this. So, the riots and the breakout are linked? There are Spanish and English prisoners in the Bastille who could wreak havoc in France and their own countries if freed. If Henry Fitzgerald is involved, it doesn't necessarily mean that he intended Gaspard to kill you Madam. Perhaps the boy was given some other task? They would need money to get themselves far from Paris and the Queen's jewels would make a fair amount if pawned. Perhaps that was Henry's intention and Gaspard took other matters into his hands?"

Amorette smiled gently at Aramis. "I appreciate you saying that Aramis even if you don't believe it yourself. Henry's been a loose cannon for a while now. I must come to terms with the fact that he's not the person I once knew. I think it's time I stopped putting so much faith and belief in those who do me wrong. Perhaps I should think the worst and prepare myself. If we discover that Henry had nothing at all to do with any of this, it will be a welcome surprise."

"Doesn't seem likely that will be the outcome though Madam," mused Porthos.

"I know," Amorette said wistfully. She felt Athos' touch at the small of her back again. Suddenly eager to change the subject, Amorette asked, "How many men did escape the Bastille?"

"Five, not including Gaspard," said Athos. "We are still unsure as to how it all actually took place, but we are lucky that it was not more. It does seem to have been orchestrated as somewhat of a distraction. They wanted all militia brigades engaged in the business of the breakout, and a lot of men did leave their posts at the Louvre. That's why The King and Queen were moved to the other side of the Palace. The patrol should have alerted you also!"

Amorette shook off his concern. "I feel asleep. Even if someone had knocked upon my door, I doubt I'd have heard anything. They probably thought my rooms were empty. As I said, my door was locked anyway."

Athos nodded slowly. "As Aramis said, those escaped prisoners will likely have gone to ground now that the city is on lockdown. They'll more than likely hide themselves away for a few days until the city returns to normality. The Governor will demand that the city gates be opened tomorrow, so for now there's nothing for us to do. Treville wants us alert and ready to stop them leaving the city should they try to do so tomorrow."

"So, you all immediately came here to drink?" cried Amorette.

"I had to finish a card game," exclaimed Porthos.

He earned a laugh from all around the table as Aramis moved towards the bar with the intention of ordering yet more wine. It was a short while later that D'artagnan left to return to Constance and Porthos wandered over to another table to begin another game of cards. Within a short while, they had lost sight of him within the throng of people. Only when yet another bottle of wine had been drained did they begin to think of turning in soon.

"We should leave soon if we do not wish to risk the ire of Treville in the morning, and you can't walk home alone after that knock to the head Athos," mused Aramis as neither he nor Athos made any attempt to get up.

Strangely, Amorette was reluctant to leave the relative safety and comfort of Athos' side. "Aramis if you wish to leave, then go. I can see Athos gets home well enough."

Athos snorted. "Aramis, weren't you the one who confirmed that there's no lasting damage to my head?"

"There wasn't before you drank the guts of a casket of wine!" jeered the marksman. "And Madam, if you walk him home, then who shall walk you back to the palace afterwards? I'll stay."

Amorette said no more on the subject as the two men began to think of finishing the contents of their wine glasses. She had no intention of returning to her own rooms within the Palace that night, not least because only a few hours ago, she had killed her attacker there and his blood likely still stained the rug of her parlour. Just the thought of entering the room again so soon made Amorette feel nauseous. There was also the matter of wanting to remain in the company of Athos. She didn't know how well received it would be amongst his friends, but it seemed Athos was certainly open to having some company for once.

When they finally did venture out into the dark streets again, it was to find the rain pelting down almost in sheets. The three of them ran against the rain in the general direction of the Rue du Bac, only stopping when they reached the shelter of an alleyway a little way away from the garrison. Amorette didn't quite know why they had stopped there at all as the other end of the alleyway led out into a courtyard overlooked by some apartments.

Aramis nodded once at Athos. "Think you can find your own way from here with that sore head of yours? Come Madam, I'll fetch you back the Louvre."

Amorette didn't move. One hand held tightly in Athos' she used the other to try and brush away her wet hair that was plastered to her face. "Don't be ridiculous Aramis," called Athos gruffly. "She's soaked through. You both are! There's no sense in you both turning into drowned rats trying to cross the river in this rain! She can wait with me until the weather dies down a little."

With a light tug on her hand Athos propelled Amorette further up the alleyway. She didn't miss the glance that passed between Athos and Aramis though. It was a strange look that told her Aramis knew exactly what was about to take place. The marksman shrugged his shoulders in an appearance of nonchalance and tipped his hat to them both. "Very well. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he whispered as he tried for a smirk. It was the look that Aramis threw her own way that told Amorette what he was really thinking. If she were unhappy or unsure about staying with Athos, Aramis wouldn't hesitate to intervene. Amorette shook her head lightly at Aramis and offered him a gentle smile of reassurance.

Seeming satisfied, he tipped his hat to them once more and vanished back out into the rain. Still panting from the exertion of the run, Amorette broke into a gentle jog as she followed Athos across the deserted courtyard into a small hallway. It came to her then that Athos must have taken rooms here and moved out of the garrison. He led her up a staircase to the upper floors of the well-kept boarding house and unlocked the door of what was quite a large and well-furnished room. Immediately Athos moved to the fireplace to try and create some light and heat. Amorette turned to observe the large bed with crisp ivory sheets and deep red counterpane which matched the thick drapes at the window. Beneath the window were chairs and a small table; the surface of which was littered with parchment and reports. Amorette turned back towards Athos and the long couch there that separated them. Within minutes he had stoked the fire to a gentle heat and stood back to let it grow. He pulled off his own sopping wet hat and shook his hair sending droplets of rainwater scattering around him. Amorette pulled off her cloak and Athos took it to hang on a hook near the fire.

"I wasn't expecting this," she said aloud rather than inside her head as Athos handed her a towel for her own drenched hair.

The only response he made was a dry chuckle as he removed his doublet and kicked off his boots. Squeezing the water from her hair, it was a few moments before Amorette realised that Athos was gazing at her intently. She watched his eyes follow the path of a droplet of water made as it rolled from the base of her neck down her chest and into the hollow between her breasts. It was almost as if her skin burned under his scorching gaze. Athos had never before let himself look upon her in that why whilst she could see him. Now though, it seemed he was throwing cation to the winds.

"You should um…" he gestured silently to Amorette's sodden skirts and she nodded briskly.

"Will you help?" she asked brazenly before he could finish his sentence. Her breath caught in her chest suddenly as his eyes met hers, understanding flickering across his features. Wordlessly he slowly moved towards her and Amorette turned away as he reached her. Amorette's own hands were shaking from the cold and wet weather, the effects of a little too much wine and more than anything in anticipation of what was about to happen that night, but Athos' hands remained solid and steady as he tugged on the laces of her bodice until she was able to slip out of it and her skirts fell to a puddle at her feet. Stepping out of them she was now in only her corset and undergarments. She was very aware of the rise and fall of her large chest as her breathing quickened and deepened. Athos seemed to catch himself as he gazed at her and made to reach for something for Amorette to cover herself with. Amorette beat him to it though, catching hold of his arm just before he tore the counterpane from the bed. Turning him away from it she caught his face between her hands and pulled him down to meet her kiss.

His hands found her waist immediately and pulled her against him, the swell of her breasts pressing against his chest through his linen shirt. Amorette pushed against him further, rewarded with the softest of groans that he let slip into her mouth. She grinned into the kiss and felt him begin to step backwards, pulling her with him down onto the couch to sit astride him. Amorette didn't know how long it was that she kissed him for in that position. All that she really knew was him sitting beneath her, holding her against him with one hand behind her back, the other tentatively reaching down to stroke her thigh through her underskirt. Amorette let out her own groan as he shifted beneath her and he pulled away slightly, only to move back in again to nuzzle her neck. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back gently as his kisses grew hotter and more illicit. They tapered their war around her neck until his lips gently caressed the tops of her breasts. Something within Amorette snapped and she grabbed his face and kissed him roughly, a hand moving down to pull up his shirt. Athos pulled away slightly to dispose of his shirt and then his hands found the ribbons of her corset. He made quick work of them, the only hesitation coming when he placed his hands on either side of her corset to prise it apart and free her.

He drew away to gaze at her as they both panted heavily. "Amorette are you sure this is what you want?"

For a few seconds, she let him stare at her, the light of the fire illuminating their red and flushed cheeks. She smiled softly at him as she took one of his hands in hers. "Athos I've never been more sure of anything in my entire life." They continued to stare at each other, still panting heavily and Amorette felt the first beads of perspiration forming between her breasts. Still bound by her corset, she returned his hand to the boned stays and leaned closer to his ear. "Pull it…" she whispered.

Athos complied and yanked both sides of her corset apart until he was able to let go and it fell to the floor. Within seconds his mouth was upon hers again, hotly this time. One hand made short work of finding one of her breasts through her linen shift and Amorette pulled away from his kiss to let the side of her face rest against his, her mouth forming a soft O shape. Suddenly she felt his touch upon her bare leg as he batted away the material of the underskirt. Amorette gasped in surprise and placed her hands over his quickly to still his efforts. He looked at her questioningly as if waiting for her to tell him to stop.

Amorette had no intentions of telling him to stop, but there were things she needed to say before they went any further, things he needed to know. Even if this were the only night they ever shared together that way, she needed him to know. Amorette didn't care anymore how their relationship unfolded from here for she was finally seeing things as she ought to have done for a long time. "There is something I need to explain to you Athos," she whispered as she shifted her weight. "What I mean to say is that I have come to understand it all now. You see, for so long I had a very singular view of love. You know how I have always felt about you! I have loved you since I was a child and quite frankly, no one else ever came close for me. I thoroughly believed that everyone had one soul mate in the world, one person they should love until the end of time. For me you are that, and always have been. I know that my sister Ann was your great love and so I instantly questioned the first advances that you did make towards me. I thought you were perhaps confused, wanting to take your anger and loss over my sister out on me. I thought you would throw me away like a discarded toy after a while. Perhaps you would have even seen her in me; that part frightened me. I don't want to be like my sister, and I know I'm not.

"I am independent and strong-willed, but through my own volition. I was not so because I saw those traits in her and admired them. That was a part of me before I ever knew her. It has taken time though for me to see that. You see, if I had not married, I would not be sitting here with you like this. I didn't think you could truly care for me as I wanted you to, so I eventually thought that to marry and take myself away from you was the best course of action. Of course, I only considered that because I met Fabien and liked the man. I realise now that I had no understanding of love at all. I thought all of those simpering Mademoiselles at court who were in love with five suitors at any one time were losing their minds. I did not think it possible to love more than one person, and perhaps I still don't.

"What I'm trying to say is that when I married Fabien I did come to love him. It was an entirely different kind of love to what I feel for you, but it was a kind of love all the same. Perhaps if he had lived on for many years then my feelings for you would have weakened, but we will never know. They lay dormant all those months though! So, I understand it now, that you once loved my sister and now you can also love me. I could not see that before Fabien, but he opened my eyes in so many ways. Your actions tonight only further proved all of this. I cannot dispute now that you do love me, and although it is a different love, it is a love all the same. It may not be a great love like the one you harboured for my sister and perhaps you always will harbour it; but that's alright.

"I see now that it doesn't have to be that way, that we can still be happy despite all of all of that other stuff. I think that's why I acted like a petulant child earlier today. All this new emotion was just being discovered in my mind, that you were finally mine and someone came along and showed the slightest bit of threat so I lost my composure. I may have been a little underhanded with Ninon and I got it into my head that she was here to ensnare you in some way."

Amorette took a deep breath and waited as Athos gazed into the fire. Slowly he turned to look back at her. "I appreciate your jealousy and protectiveness, but there's nothing to worry yourself over on that front. Ninon and I are strangers to one another. I bare the woman no ill and wish her well, but my feelings have resided entirely with you for quite some time now. I'm also sure that Ninon had many other matters besides me to return to Paris for."

Amorette snorted. "You overestimate her, and all women. Why could she not have simply returned for you, I know I did!"

Athos gazed at her quizzically. "I thought you returned on the Queen's business; and on some matter of Buckingham's?"

Amorette laughed. "No Athos. The Queen and I conducted our business via letters for two years. I had no need to come to Paris to pass her information. Buckingham was coming here, and I confess that I couldn't overlook the chance to see you again. I had the strangest feeling though when I did return, that I somehow belonged here this time around."

Athos nodded as he mulled over her words. "I suppose you may be right in some regard though. Ninon did come here last night to me. I told her in no uncertain terms that I no longer bore any interest for her in that regard."

Amorette sat up straight in shock, almost falling off Athos onto the floor. "She came here to proposition you?" Amorette cried indignantly as Athos took a better grip of her. He nodded slowly. "That officious cow…I was right then!"

Athos shook his head in annoyance. "She's been lonely and devoid of any company. It hasn't been an easy life for her these past few years."

"I suppose it hasn't," mused Amorette. "I do mean to apologise to her not for what I said, but how I said it. It was unfair of me to accuse her of wanting to usurp me."

Athos's face remained devoid of all emotion. "I told her last night that I was intending to continue my relationship with you, but she was persistent."

"Then why did she act so aloof with me earlier?" growled Amorette.

Athos shrugged. "Why are we talking of Ninon? Surely you are assured of my lack of interest in that party now?"

Amorette sighed heavily as she realised she was wasting valuable time talking of another woman who mattered very little to either of them in the grand scheme of things. "I know, I do know that now. Didn't you listen to a word I said before I mentioned Ninon?"

Athos smirked. "I heard every word! I also appreciated it all. I think I did not consider all those months ago, how hard it must have been for you to deal with the fact of my marriage to your sister when I was suddenly making advances towards you. I thought you were being foolish, but I comprehend it all now very clearly after what you just said."

Amorette let herself fall forward to rest her head against his chest and listened intently to his heart beating. He snaked his arms around her and for a time they sat in silent contemplation. Later, they would both know that one another was not contemplating the gravity of their relationship or anything so serious. No, there was still an elephant in the room that neither one of them could take their minds off. Eventually his lips found hers again in the orange glow of the fire, much as passionately as they had done before. Hands wandered freely as both minds dwelt only on capricious thoughts.

Eventually Athos stood with Amorette in his arms and fell back onto the bed. Still atop of him, Amorette knew it wouldn't be long before her linen shift was no more. Athos' hands fingered the hem of it perilously, but he seemed to be letting her make all of the decisions now. She guided his hands back to the hem when they strayed upwards and let him pull it off. She sat up slightly as for the first time he gazed upon her completely bare form. It was the most peculiar of stares. Lying on the bed, he looked upon her not with lust or merriment in anticipation if what was about to happen, but with something else entirely. He had not looked at her in such a way ever before and Amorette found herself almost quivering under such a gaze. She grabbed his hands and pulled him upright so that he was facing her and in the most brazen move she had ever made in her life, she planted his hands atop her breasts as she gazed intently into his eyes. As he lost himself in fondling and caressing, Amorette made quick work of his belt and threw it out of the way. It landed on the floor, the belt clattering against the wooden floorboards. The buttons of his breaches soon followed and when Athos realised what she was doing he fell back down to lie on the bed again, that same unreadable look upon his face.

Amorette shifted her wait a little so that she could remove his breaches. She had half expected him to make some kind of movement, but he lay with his arms slightly outstretched and flat against the mattress. He was leaving all of this to her.

When Amorette woke, there was a thin strip of early morning sunlight cutting through the drawn curtains. She lay on top of Athos, with her head resting on his bare chest. The only barrier was his linen shirt. Amorette vaguely remembered waking in the middle of the night to find herself lying in exactly the same position, minus the shirt. Feeling cold she had sat up in bed to retrieve her clothes. Athos had sat up behind her, plucked his shirt from where they had thrown it earlier and yanked it over her head before he pulled her down to lie on top of him with a possessive growl.

She lay there for what felt like an age, letting the hair of his chest tickle her cheek as she relished in the feeling of their bare legs entwined with one another. Every bit of her body ached not from pain, but from exertion and illicit touch. It also burned for more. Ever so gently, his chin moved and he planted a chaste kiss to her forehead.

Amorette grinned. "How's your head?"

"How's your cold?" came his gruff reply.

"Touché," she countered with a giggle as she gently swatted his chest. He brought his hand up to capture hers. "It's light. What time is the changing of the guard? No doubt I'll need to leave soon if I want to miss making a spectacle of myself."

With that Amorette groaned and attempted to sit up but Athos was quicker. Taking his chance as she hesitated to yawn, he grabbed her wrists in his own and rolled, earning an excited yelp from her as he came to lie on top of her with her hands pinned above her head. He glanced down at his shirt that she wore and smirked. "Somehow I don't think we'll be needing this!"

When the shirt had been pulled over her head, Amorette tried not to let her jaw drop as she stared at him. It was almost as if he had transformed overnight into an entirely different person. If he kept saying things like that, Amorette didn't know how she was going to control herself.

The evening before had been something that they had both needed. Athos had let her take charge, asking permission even just with a look for everything that he did. They had both been drunk and frustrated and had taken their needs of one another gratifyingly. The morning after though, was something else entirely. It was gentle. Caressing and loving. He had lain still on the bed the evening before and let Amorette straddle him. She had understood that action, as he had wanted her to feel wholly and completely comfortable and in control of the situation. Now that he knew she was though, it was his turn to take the lead.

Amorette had been kissed before, but never like the way Athos' lips burned across her own that morning. He also kissed her in other places that she had never been kissed before. He nipped and sucked at her breasts for such a length of time that he had her pining for him eventually. Then his hands ventured lower, gently prising apart her thighs to gently caress her white alabaster skin. Suddenly she felt him take her in his mouth and her eyes fluttered shut as she mewled loudly. Panting as if she had run around the perimeter of the whole city of Paris, when Athos finally came up for air he did not seem to plan on giving her respite. He kissed his way up the plain of her now too flat stomach towards her breasts, but suddenly he stilled. His hand gently traced the scar just below her ribs that he had completely missed in his intoxicated state the evening before.

He glanced up at her as she nibbled her lip, the longing look in his eyes slowly disappearing. "This was never just a flesh wound, was it? I've seen many scars in my time Amorette."

She sighed heavily as her head fell back to the pillow with a thump. She could still feel his eyes staring at her expectantly. "It happened and it's over with, it made no sense to make a big deal of the fact that someone stabbed me. Either way it healed and I'm fine."

"I wish you had made a big deal of it. I gave you such a hard time when you returned to Paris. I had no idea that you must still have been recovering from this."

"Athos I couldn't tell you even if I had wanted to-"

"Yes yes, I know," he interrupted. "You were in the employ of the Queen. I understand. The idea of you suffering alone is what does not sit well with me."

Amorette was silent before a wicked smirk graced her features. "If that's so," she whispered playfully, "Then why have you stopped?"

An hour later, she lay with his weight still upon her, gazing at the strip of sunlight. "Athos I really do need to go now."

With an irritated groan, he rolled off her onto the other side of the bed and Amorette sat up. "I should be going too," he mumbled. "Treville will want to see us soon no doubt."

"A little tip for you," giggled Amorette as she threw her shift over her head. "Blame the hungover mood on the blow to the head."

He laughed too as she reached for her dress which seemed to have dried of its own accord by the fire. He laced her clothing back up just tightly enough so that she could make her way home, but loose enough that she could get out of the dress herself when she returned to her rooms. His hands fell onto her shoulders when he had finished. "you're still having those dreams? You were talking in your sleep last night."

Amorette moved away from him, reluctant to have any sort of serious conversation. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"I'm not!" he exclaimed. "You sounded frightened. I was considering waking you."

Amorette turned to shake her head at him. "Please don't wake me if it happens again. I want to be able to get as far in the dream as I can. I still don't understand it."

"Tell me?" he questioned.

Amorette gave in as he approached and touched her upper arms gently. "It was the same as before, walking through early morning Paris towards the bridge, but this time I was moving faster, almost running. Is it wrong that I think it's trying to tell me something?"

Athos dropped his hands and looked away. "I was actually going to suggest that you see an apothecary about taking something to stop the dreams, so in a way I suppose it is wrong that you think it's telling you something. Every night I've been with you, you have a disturbed sleep, and you're barely eating. Now before you storm out, you know I am not the kind of man who makes bones about what women eat or how they look. I'm not going to force food down your throat but all I'm saying is that I'm worried about you."

Amorette took his hand and squeezed. "You expect me to fly off the handle, don't you?" He nodded stiffly, as if waiting for an avalanche of harsh words. "I appreciate that you worry Athos; but I want to get to the bottom of these dreams. I think the only way to do that is to let myself come to the conclusion of what I see in them, whatever that may be. I will go and fetch something to help me sleep but I will not take it every night. I think that's a fair compromise."

She watched him frown as he wondered why she was being so compliant and laughed at his vacant expression. "What's got into you Cometess; being all agreeable for once?" he asked.

"You, evidently!" she said with a wink as she reached for her cloak. She pulled it over her shoulders and turned up the collar, hoping she would appear inconspicuous.

"Here," Athos said as he reached for his own hat and placed it on her head and pulled the brim down to cover her face.

"Won't you need this?" Amorette asked of him as he fastened the clasp of her cloak.

"You can give it back later." With that he leaned down to kiss her again, the brim of his hat bashing against his head.

Try as she might, Amorette couldn't let go. She let him push her up against the wall as he began to nip and suck at the side of her neck. It was only as one knee attempted to prise apart her legs that she pushed her hands against his chest. "I really do need to go if we don't want all of Paris knowing about this just yet."

She kissed his cheek sweetly and unlocked the door to step put into the hallway and threw him one last smile as he ruffled his hair in frustration, and then she left him standing there.

 _ **Well, what did you think? The explanation for Fabien is finally here. I couldn't put it in earlier chapters because I didn't want to spoil the story, but without him it wouldn't have been entirely believable. Obviously Amorette was a complete virgin before she married Fabien, and I can't imagine the prudish woman that she was ever getting to a point when she would have been able to behave with Athos as she did in this chapter. Fabien was kind, sweet and romantic. He was the perfect practice in a way for Amorette, but practice sounds mean. She did come to care for Fabien and 'love' him somewhat. Perhaps it was because she knew that he loved her in return, but I think we all know her greatest love is Athos!**_


	50. Chapter 50

_**Thanks for the lovely reviews! I'm glad that you liked the last chapter! Oddly, the last one was a lot easier to write than this one, which I found bloody hard to flesh out. So is Chapter 50! Chapter 50? This story is now at 300,000 words and it's the only thing I've managed to keep writing! I feel that's such a sense of achievement! So, you're getting two chapters this week as I'm off work and fully intend to make the most of the Christmas weekend. I don't know when the next update will be, more than likely the end of next week due to Christmas and mostly because it's not very well planned out yet!**_

 _ **P.S. I think every story needs a Brontë quote.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

 _It is in vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with tranquillity: they must have action; and they will make it if they cannot find it. Millions are condemned to a stiller doom than mine, and millions are in silent revolt against their lot. Nobody knows how many rebellions besides political rebellions ferment in the masses of life which people earth. Women are supposed to be very calm generally: but women feel just as men feel; they need exercise for their faculties, and a field for their efforts, as much as their brothers do; they suffer from too rigid a restraint, too absolute a stagnation, precisely as men would suffer; and it is narrow-minded in their more privileged fellow-creatures to say that they ought to confine themselves to making puddings and knitting stockings, to playing on the piano and embroidering bags. It is thoughtless to condemn them, or laugh at them, if they seek to do more or learn more than custom has pronounced necessary for their sex._

 _Charlotte Brontë – Jane Eyre_

 _The sun has burst the sky_

 _Because I love you_

 _And the river its banks._

 _The sea laps the great rocks_

 _Because I love you_

 _And takes no heed of the moon dragging it away_

 _And saying coldly 'Constancy is not for you'._

 _The blackbird fills the air_

 _Because I love you_

 _With spring and lawns and shadows falling on lawns._

 _The people walk in the street and laugh_

 _I love you_

 _And far down the river ships sound their hooters_

 _Crazy with joy because I love you._

 _Jenny Joseph – The Sun Has Burst the Sky_

So that was what it felt like to be loved, and loved in return. Amorette had never shied away from her own feelings, having been so undoubtedly sure of them from an early age but perhaps she had hidden herself away because of them. That part of her life was over now though. She scurried out onto the Paris streets again, relieved that it was still early morning and only a few people meandered here and there. Nevertheless, Amorette pulled the brim of Athos' hat down to further cover her reddened face. Surely everyone would take one glance at her attempt at inconspicuousness and laugh in her face. How could they not know how she had spent the previous night when here she was barely after sunrise; scuttling back home in last night's dress with a man's hat upon her head?

If all of that were not a clue, then her sheer happiness should be enough to tell anyone that her mind was still a few streets back, in bed with a musketeer. The reality was that Amorette didn't really care who knew, but it was the matter of her friends bombarding her with questions that she wanted to avoid. To her, it was still important that what she had with Athos remained solely theirs for a little while longer. They had not danced around each other for all of those years for nothing after all.

It was as the height of the buildings gradually began to diminish and Amorette reached the banks of the Seine that she took in the wonderful sight of the rising sun. It was such a rare occurrence that late in the year to be able to witness the wonder of a red sunrise that Amorette stopped to look out at the horizon. It was as if she herself and her own emotions were controlling the weather. The pelting disturbance of rain from the evening before was long gone to be replaced by the tranquil simplicity of the rising sun in the East. It might have been cold, but Amorette's cheeks were so inflamed that she barely noticed it.

Regretfully she had to turn and make the river crossing to return to her own rooms, but her mind was not upon where to place her feet. The change of weather also marked the change in Amorette. Long gone were the futile and petulant worries she had let invade her mind the day before. They had never meant anything at all, but perhaps for Amorette they had been a way to fill the void and the time. Now though, the man she had been in love with since she was five years old loved her in return; even if he had not directly said the words. Strangely, Amorette didn't think that she wanted him to. Having known Athos for so long, she understood that he was not the type of man to flippantly throw out such a statement carelessly even if the time did feel right. He was the strong and silent type, needing little to no assurance at all that Amorette loved him. He wouldn't tell Amorette that he loved her just because it might be something that she needed to hear. No, he would tell her only when he himself needed to hear it.

He was a musketeer after all, and a good one. He thrived on action and trouble. Whilst trouble still abounded, he was secure. It was in the future when everything was right with the world that he would feel lost. Then the lynch pin of his love would be the only thing left holding him together, stopping him from going mad. Amorette hoped in a way that she would never see that day. She herself was coming to realise that idleness was not something she desired. She wished for occupation too because she had been still and silent too long. Eight years locked away in the country had been a fool's errand. Now she saw how important she was to the world. She had something to say; had done since she was twelve years old. She should have used her time wisely, but now she would have to make up for lost time. Amorette knew who she was now more than ever as she left the bridge and the gently lapping murky waters of the Seine behind and reached the busier streets of the Les Halles market.

Oddly it was easier to hide in a larger crowd as she meandered her way back towards the Palace. It didn't stop her heart from beating erratically though. She could still feel lips flush against the skin of her neck; feel large hands getting lost in her mass of long brown hair. No doubt she looked a bedraggled mess under the hat and cloak, but Athos hadn't cared had he? It was only as Amorette reached the ladies corridor and the door to her own rooms came into sight that she faltered. She had happily pushed the events of the evening before out of her mind but now they were sneaking back in. She had killed a boy in her own rooms, shot him straight in the chest with Athos' pistol. Was his blood still staining the carpet where he had lain? Was the corpse still there now?

Amorette tore Athos' hat from her head and held it in both hands, observing how her hands shook even as she tried for calmness. She stared at the door as her breath became erratic and wanted nothing more than to run back the way she had come; right across the river to the Rue du Bac and into his arms. That was not who she wanted to be though. Yes, she wanted comfort and security, which he had given her the evening before and no doubt would again, but Amorette was not a mute little wife. She wanted action and here was her opportunity to prove to herself and everyone else that she was ready for it. They would not always be together; with Athos leaving Paris every so often to fulfil his duties Amorette was going to have to learn to comfort and secure herself. She had done it before in essence, and that couldn't change just because she and Athos were now more intimate with one another.

It was still reasonable though to feel trepidation about staying in her rooms after what had happened. Perhaps she could request to be moved elsewhere, but to do that she would have to step inside and observe the scene. Slowly her hand reached out to grasp the door handle, and Amorette sucked in a quick breath before she pushed down on the handle and the door swung open.

Bright sunlight assaulted her eyes. The drapes had all been dragged back and the windows thrown open to air the room. The parlour furniture had all been cleared to the side of the room and the blood-stained rug was nowhere in sight. Amorette stepped into the chilly room and glanced towards her bed chamber hesitantly. The bed had been entirely stripped and the windows had been thrown open there too.

Ushered towards another set of rooms within the Palace, Amorette came to realise that Tilda had been hard at work for a fair few hours arranging new rooms. Now she was only a corridor's length from Claude's rooms. Tilda had scurried into action when she had heard what had happened, drafting Léo and two stewards in to help her clean everything up and move all of Amorette's belongings. There was a part of Amorette that was sorry to leave the rooms that she had quite quickly come to think of as home, and she did spare the hidden passageway a worry. It would no longer be guarded by herself from one side, but Amorette mentally scolded herself. The Queen's welfare and business were her own now and surely, she could arrange to have that passageway blocked up entirely.

Her new rooms were a floor above where her old ones had been, and much larger. There was also a lighter feel to them, perhaps because a set of double doors led out onto a small balcony. All her trunks had been brought up and Tilda had already organised her belongings.

"I thought you'd be worried about staying in your old rooms again after what happened Madam, so I arranged for everything to be moved as soon as it was light."

Amorette turned towards her maid and offered her a warm smile. "I don't think I deserve you Tilda. I really appreciate all of this! I hadn't given much thought to my rooms until I arrived back just now."

"Don't deserve me?" Tilda chuckled. "Madam I think it's rather the other way around! You've taught me so much since I started helping you out and I am payed far more than any other ladies maid in this Palace. On another note though, where on earth did you sleep last night? I know you didn't spend the night in your own rooms!"

Amorette felt the vanished blush begin to flush her cheeks again and she fiddled with the catch of her cloak as she tried to remove it. "I stayed with Athos. I didn't feel like coming back to my rooms alone and it made sense to stay with him."

"Did it really?" said Tilda with a smirk as she reached forward and pulled the hat off Amorette's head. "Goodness look at the state of your hair! Shall I have a bath made up?"

Amorette nodded as she brought a hand up to run it through the tangled knots of her hair. The thought of sinking into a hot bath suddenly appealed very much to her and within no time she was relaxing in the scented water. Amorette hadn't realised how tired and sore her body had been until the hot water began to soothe her aches. All of that exertion from the evening before had not been unwanted, but it had certainly taken its toll; so much so that the next thing Amorette knew, she was waking up in a bath of tepid cold water. She jumped out and quickly wrapped herself in the counterpane from the bed and lay on the couch that had been conveniently placed before the fire. She noticed Tilda had come back at some point and left her food, which meant it must be at least past luncheon. Eventually Amorette managed to force herself onto her feet again and dressed herself, leaving the food untouched.

On a walk of the Jardin de Tuileries, Amorette found Claude and Constance huddled together in a small alcove and proceeded to tell them of the events of the evening before, with a few alterations. Constance may have had the good grace to overlook the holes in Amorette's tale, but Claude was positively bursting for her to reach the end. "I assume you thanked Athos for coming to your rescue again?" asked Claude with raised eyebrows.

Amorette tried to school her features into a mild disinterestedness but both women were not fooled. "We know you spent the night with him Amorette," mumbled Constance. "And who can blame you for wanting to after what happened. If you do not wish to go into detail, then neither of us will pry."

One look at Claude told Amorette that the only thing she was intent on doing for the foreseeable future was pry. Amorette let out a heavy sigh. "Oh, alright then. I'm only telling you all of this once though so don't go thinking you'll get me repeating it. Yes, I spent the night with Athos and one thing did lead to another. We talked or rather I talked and he had the good grace to listen. I think there was a lot that I needed to get off my chest before our relationship took a different path. Athos has been so good to me though. He never pushed me or forced anything. He knew that I needed to wait until the time was right. I think he understood me a little more after I spoke with him last night."

Claude snorted. "Please don't for a second think that you can make us believe that all you did was talk Amorette! I appreciate that you may want to keep some of the sordid details private, but at least tell us if the deed was done!"

Amorette blushed even as she grinned. That was all the answer her friends needed. "It does feel wrong somehow to be this happy though. I shot that poor boy last night! I have robbed Denis of a brother and Jacquelyn of a husband!"

Claude gripped Amorette's shoulder tightly. "From what you've told us Amorette, frankly I think they are both better off without him. I know that sounds mean but he was a troublemaker and he nearly killed both you and Athos. You did the only conceivable thing you could have done in stopping him from hurting anyone else."

Constance nodded solemnly. "Amorette if you didn't feel upset about what happened to Gaspard then we would think there was something rather lacking, but as Claude said; there was nothing else you could have done. You had to act with only a split second to spare! As for feeling guilty about being happy; you're mad. If anyone deserves some happiness and contentment, then it's you! We know how much you've been through and what Athos means to you. I just hope that both of you can have some uninterrupted happiness now!"

Amorette shrugged. "This is Paris Constance. Nothing is ever plain sailing."

Amorette was bored and restless. It was growing dark outside and there was only so much admiring of her new rooms that she could do. She tried to read a book but her concentration wavered so much that she gave up and lay staring at the celling for an age. Eventually her eyes began to wander in the inevitable direction of Athos' hat. She was sure he would probably still be on duty and if he did come looking for her, someone would certainly be kind enough to tell him where her new rooms were. Amorette couldn't settle though. She got up and threw a coat over the plain dress she wore and lifted his hat. Thinking it wrong to interrupt Athos if he were still on duty, Amorette thought to bypass the garrison entirely. If she went to his lodgings and found him absent she would return to the Palace again. Wandering out of doors after dark was not something that she would have encouraged even of herself but tonight there was no sense of worry or trepidation about such an action. There was in fact only anticipation and longing in Amorette's mind. It was crossing the bridge that she faltered. The sun had gone down and dusk was fast approaching. There was no one around and Amorette realised that she was experiencing the complete opposite to her dream. It was dusk and not dawn, and Amorette was walking from the Louvre Palace and not towards it. The murky water of the Seine below flowed rapidly beneath the bridge and showed no signs of slowing. Someone falling from the bridge would have little to no chance of survival at all. The impact of hitting the water might be enough to kill but if by some miracle that didn't do the job, the icy temperature of the water certainly would.

Amorette's sudden shiver had nothing to do with the cold air that whipped across her face in that moment. She needed to make sense of what she was seeing in her dreams before it drove her mad. Whilst most of the bridges in the city were lined on either side with buildings and homes, this one was too narrow and as such, was lined on either side by tall balustrades. Amorette leaned against the one nearest to her and had a sickening realisation. She couldn't topple from the bridge even if she tried to. If she tripped she would make contact with the stone. It was far too tall for her to fall over. There were only two options in her mind then; that either in her dream she jumped or was pushed over.

A hand clamped down upon Amorette's shoulder and she let out a yelp, hand flying straight to the pistol brace she had seen sense to carry with her. Aramis stepped back guiltily. "Sorry Madam, I should have called out to you."

Amorette heaved a heavy sigh of relief and nodded. "Yes Aramis, you should have. No harm done though."

"You are headed to see Athos I presume?" Aramis asked with a single quirked eyebrow.

Amorette nodded sheepishly and held up the hat. "I borrowed this and thought I should return it."

"I'll walk you. I'm headed in that direction myself." Amorette took Aramis' offered arm and together they left the bridge in companionable silence. Then rather bluntly Aramis queried, "How did you find Athos' new rooms Madam?"

Amorette turned to stare at the marksman coldly. "What is that supposed to mean Aramis? I'm sure you know fine well that I never saw Athos' old rooms! I hope that you aren't insinuating that he purchased new lodgings to please me!"

For the second time that night Aramis threw her a guilty frown. "Madam I meant nothing of the sort! What I mean to say is that Athos did not purchase the rooms for you, but because of you."

Amorette stopped walking and threw him another glare. "You are not helping yourself Aramis!"

Aramis moved so that he stood before Amorette and placed his hands on her shoulders lightly. "I'm not phrasing this very well Cometess but allow me to explain myself to you." Amorette nodded hesitantly. "Well," Aramis began. "You must surely see yourself that Athos has undergone somewhat of a change in these last months. I think that ever since his relationship with you began to blossom, he has seen himself very differently. That's what love will do to a man you see. He has more respect for himself, more of a wish to be seen as better. Thus, he purchases new rooms for himself that greatly trump the squalid cramped room he kept at the garrison. He believes himself now to be worth spending some of his small fortune on. I know there is not much money left from his days as a Comte but he has enough to get by. I do not think he could have found it within himself to bring you back with him last night had he still been lodging within the garrison. Its rather like he's grown up a little."

Amorette pondered Aramis words as they turned and began to walk again. "Aramis I do not care where Athos lodges or what his rooms are like! I never did!"

"Cometess; Athos knows that very well; but now he cares about his rooms and the impression they give off. That is a very important shift of thought process for a man like Athos who up until recently has endured such heartache. He is not the only one that has changed though Madam! You have too!" Amorette threw him a quizzical glance, not sure she was ready to hear his appraisal of her. "I think before you met your late husband that you had an even poorer view of yourself than Athos did of himself. Suddenly there was a man who wished to marry you not for money or status but because both of you had a real connection of sorts. He appreciated you for who you are. That's so important and with your marriage to Fabien that brought about a sense of confidence in you that you had never beheld. You saw yourself not as an unmarried Mademoiselle-"

"Old spinster more like!" Amorette interrupted with a snort.

Aramis shook his head in annoyance. "You see, there's that self-doubt and ridicule again that makes you almost entirely incapable of receiving a compliment. You stopped seeing yourself as some unmarried Cometess but as someone's wife! Your late husband believed in you a great deal and showed it in how he presented you and left you to handle some of his affairs both before and after death. Without realising it you took all of that on board and began to see what everyone else sees; a very capable, kind and intelligent young woman. You've grown into a fine woman! I think that is perhaps why you and Athos are now able to co-exist rather contentedly now. Look at all of those disputes and arguments before! They mean nothing at all to either of you now! You both squabbled like children and I do believe that for a time Athos did still see you as a young child. He has known you for a very long time though so I'm sure even you will understand that concept took time to shift. You've both experienced loss now, and the gravity of that has enabled you to come together with quite possibly more of a connection than you ever had before!"

Amorette felt her face heating and squeezed Aramis' hand in gratitude. "You know, you're wasted as a musketeer!"

He let out a bark of laughter. "On the contrary, who would keep all of you lot together if I were not a musketeer and readily available! I hope you will not come to look upon my words as an intrusion though Madam. It is only my observation. You must know by now that we all think very highly of you; not least because you have brought about such a change in Athos. He finally has a chance at happiness that he seems confident enough to take. That's quite some feat indeed."

They turned off the Rue du Bac and into the alley that led to Athos' new lodgings. Aramis followed Amorette across the courtyard and into the building. They found Athos dressed in shirt and breeches at his small table, scratching out reports with a quill. He glanced up when they entered, seeming surprised to see them. Amorette quickly realised though that he barely spared Aramis a glance. His attention was all for her. A soft smile broke out upon his face in return for the one she offered him.

"You're working," she announced. "I'll take my leave of you then. I only came to return your hat!"

Athos was already shuffling his parchment into a pile and pushing it away from himself. "No stay, the work can keep for another time." Feeling Aramis' eyes upon the back of her head, Amorette took a hesitant seat in the chair opposite Athos. "Aramis, what brings you here at this hour?"

"Seeing that the Cometess got here in one piece," the marksman exclaimed as he removed his hat and moved further into the room. "And to let you know that Treville has called off our search for the evening. Orders from the governor are that the Red Guard will continue the night search. Treville isn't too happy about it but there's not much he can do when the orders seem to have come directly from the King."

"Have you found any of the escaped prisoners?" Amorette asked the two musketeers.

Aramis nodded. "Porthos apprehended one man this morning. That still leaves another four unaccounted for though."

"We'll find them," Athos mused. "Either that or the cold night will kill them first." Amorette turned towards him as he spoke, finding that he was gazing at her intently.

"Well I shall take my leave," exclaimed Aramis. "I know when I'm not wanted."

With a wink and a gentle flourish as he placed his hat upon his head again, he was gone. Amorette stifled a giggle as Athos gently reached forward to grasp her wrist. In one swift movement, he had pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap. "At least this evening you appear to have avoided the rain Madam. I haven't stopped thinking of you all day."

Amorette kissed him soundly, her hand coming up to caress his bearded face for a time before it got lost in his hair. His hands were at her waist, but Amorette felt she could feel them almost burning her skin through her clothing. Somehow her pistol brace unbuckled and fell to the floor with a thud, her coat became unbuttoned and was pulled from her shoulders before Athos gently pulled away from her. Those cobalt blue eyes had her melting into his side as he gazed down at her with such force and she suddenly felt nervous again without quite knowing why.

"Are you alright?" Athos asked her. The concern within his eyes told Amorette that he did not ask about their relations the evening before, or the day that had passed since. "I couldn't come to you this afternoon but I wanted to. I wanted to be sure that you were alright returning to your rooms."

Amorette smiled warmly at his concern. "Everything was sorted before I had even returned to the Louvre. Tilda arranged for my things to be moved to another set of rooms one floor above. I was quite relieved to tell the truth."

Athos sighed as he looked at her heavily. "You know that you are not in any way to blame don't you Amorette? You saved my life; no, you saved both of our lives. You had not the time to spare to think upon what to do next and acted in the best way possible. Gaspard acted rashly when he came in search of you last night. He was a fool to do so, for he may have stood a chance of escaping if he had not. That is no fault of yours in any way! Think how different our worlds would be if he had taken his shot at one of us? Then where would we be?" Amorette nodded even as a sole tear rolled down her cheek. Athos wiped it away gently with his thumb. "You've become so used to bottling everything up that I find it hard to read you when you're like this," he mumbled.

Amorette pulled away to glare at him. "I'm hard to read? What about you? I've worn my heart upon my sleeve with you since I was a little girl!"

"But you keep so many secrets," mused Athos. Amorette stilled as she felt his hand at her back, tugging at the laces of her bodice. She let him tug them free in silence until she could stand and let her dress pool at her feet. He made short work of her corset too, until she stood before him in only her shift. She thought he meant to take that from her too, but instead he pulled her back down to sit on his lap and his hand immediately fell to where her scar lay below her ribs.

"That's still bothering you, isn't it?" she asked him. "You know why I hid it from you!"

"I feel guilty," he said. "We did nothing but squabble and fight when you came back to Paris. I did not know you must still have had all of what happened in Spain upon your mind! I do not like that you felt you had to keep secrets from me! I thought we had always trusted each other from the day we met!"

"Athos I do trust you!" Amorette cried. "Would I be with you now if I didn't? Would I have spent last night with you if I didn't?"

After what felt like an age Athos nodded. "I see I shall have to admit defeat in this case, but I'd like us to promise one another something. No more secrets?"

Amorette grinned and without hesitation she whispered, "No more secrets." She didn't know what she saw in his eyes then; doubt perhaps that she would keep to her promise. Sighing a deep breath she knew what she said next would have to assure him of her willingness to comply. "I told you last night that I came back to Paris with the sole intention of seeing you, and that was true. I was still recovering from the attack in Spain when I returned. I should have gone to my mother's home in Provins to recover in peace and quiet but the truth is that I did almost die. As soon as I was coherent again all I could think of was seeing you. It was the strangest feeling, like I wouldn't ever be well again until I saw you."

Her honesty seemed to work. She did not register the movement but suddenly they were upon the bed again, with Athos gazing at her so longingly that Amorette thought her heart might burst out of her chest entirely.

When she awoke the next morning, Amorette let out a long groan. Her nose felt puffy and blocked, and everything ached. She felt a slight depression at the side of the bed and rolled over to find Athos sitting beside her. He was in the process of pulling on his boots and Amorette raised herself up from the bed. "You're leaving? Give me a few moments to dress and I'll walk with you."

Athos pushed her back into the pillows gently though. "Amorette as I recall you did promise me you would take one day's bed rest to try and get over this cold of yours! That has still to transpire! Do this one thing for me; stay here today and that way I can come by and check on you later?"

It was testament to how ill Amorette truly felt that morning that she simply nodded her agreement and rolled over again as she heard the door snap shut behind Athos as he left. She was asleep again before he had even reached the courtyard below.

When Amorette woke again, she guessed it must be well past midday. She did feel rather more rested and gently pulled Athos' pillow towards her across the bed. The lightest scent of his unique smell comforted her enough to keep her there for an hour or two but eventually she began to pick her way around the room. She sheaved through Athos' reports on his table and tugged the drapes so that they sat evenly either side of the window. In a small alcove by the fireplace Amorette found a collection of leather bound books. Most of them were empty journals or written accounts by military men, but one little book tucked into the corner of the shelf almost had her heart skipping a beat. She pulled out the still good as new copy of Thomas More's Utopia and gazed upon it in wonder. It was the very same one that she had thrust into Athos' chest all those months ago, after another one of their arguments. Clearly, he had never read it, but there had been ample time for Athos to return the book to her so, why hadn't he?"

 _ **Yeah you all forgot about the book, didn't you?**_


	51. Chapter 51

_**God this chapter was hard to write! I think I restarted it about twelve times. I still don't think it's up to much but it moves the story on so it'll have to do!**_

 _ **Helensg; can't tell you what the dream means yet! It'll be revealed in a later chapter!**_

 _ **Pallysdeeks; I think they do hold each other at arm's length in a way, but I think certainly on Amorette's part she still can't believe her luck!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

They were sitting on the couch by the fire, devouring a feast of bread, cheese and sweet meats that Athos had returned with a little while earlier. Amorette was sure that Athos never usually ate so well and that it must all be for her benefit. She reminded herself of her conversation with Aramis the previous evening and swiftly decided that she would not broach the subject and decided upon an altogether different topic of conversation.

"I see you still have possession of my book Athos. Did you read it?"

Athos' head jerked up from his meal sharply. His bewildered expression told Amorette that he had more than likely not considered that she would notice the book. "No I haven't," he replied.

"Then why keep it? You've had ample opportunity to return it."

Athos sighed heavily as he leaned back against the couch. "In all honesty I do not know. It was almost as if I had a part of you with me. You seemed to have forgotten about it, and I think that every time it crossed my mind to return it, I swiftly reminded myself that you didn't seem to miss it."

"I did forget about it for a time," Amorette mused. "I didn't have you down as the sentimental type though. It's just a book and I think I have an older copy floating around in one of my trunks somewhere."

"It's a part of you though," Athos murmured so quietly that Amorette was sure he had not meant her to hear it. "The meaning behind the book; and no matter what I thought of you back then I still felt inspired by the rare innocence that you once had."

Amorette let out a snort. "Rare innocence? Naive and childlike maybe, but I'm not sure about innocence!"

"You were innocent," cried Athos, "and you still are." Despite her disbelief of his words they were still able to touch her. She gently moved the remnants of their meal to the floor and slid along the couch to rest her head against his shoulder. "I know you don't see it yourself, but you've never been anything other than innocent. You have this intrinsically rare ability to see good even in those who have done you yourself wrong. My occupation as a musketeer and perhaps the little age difference between us means that I see the world differently than you do Amorette. I have a hardened and negative view of the streets that I walk every day. It is rather easy for me to brush aside sentimentality in favour of the cold logistics when in fact I should strive to see things perhaps a little more as others do."

Amorette pulled away a little to look up at him. "Athos you were trained that way. As a musketeer and a soldier in general you have been schooled to remain detached from certain aspects of what you see every day. There are some things which you will have seen, that would put the fear of God into me! I would not cope with them as you do. That is not a bad thing. You would not be able to do what you do if you viewed the world through a pane of rose-tinted glass. I myself have seen your sensitive side before, and it was there without my influence. You've had to find the balance between that and your logical and rational mind."

"There is still improvement to be made," he mumbled. "But you're right. I do have to strike a balance. There are certain situations where you have seen someone's true feelings and intentions and still found some good there when there was none. It is a strength and a weakness too. It has occurred to me in the past that people may take advantage of your kindness that you offer so willingly. I cannot dissuade it however, because it is who you are."

They lapsed into an easy silence then, both assured that the other felt placated by the conversation. Amorette only realised that she must have fallen asleep in that position when she woke the next morning. She and Athos walked to Les Halles together before parting ways. It was the same walk they would take many times over the course of the next few weeks as they came to believe that staying together in Athos' rooms was less conspicuous than sneaking around the Louvre Palace together. They were both under no illusions that all of their friends could easily guess by their happy countenances that their relationship had progressed yet more, but oddly Amorette was beginning not to care.

They did not see each other every night, for Athos and his friends were still tasked with trying to find the escaped Bastille prisoners that more than likely roamed lands much further than Paris. They did so in earnest though, well aware that the mood of the city had become somewhat strained and anxious after the breakout. Whilst on the surface it seemed as if normal life carried on resolutely, there was an undercurrent of fear and trepidation bubbling below the surface that no one dared to speak of. That was why, when a letter arrived for Amorette from Lyall Fitzgerald; she took it straight to Athos before she had even opened it.

She found him on duty at the Louvre and watched as he turned the rather ostentatiously folded letter over in his hands a few times. The crest imprinted into the wax seal and the spidery, scrawling handwriting had left her in no doubt that Lyall was the sender. Athos leaned against the wall behind him and looked at Amorette.

"Open it if you like," she mumbled. "I've no interest in what he has to say to me. I just thought it might be important, that's all." Athos turned his attention back to the letter and broke the seal. Unfolding the letter, for a moment his expression was unreadable before Athos rolled his eyes and swiftly crumpled the letter. "What?" Amorette asked him hesitantly.

"He wants to meet."

Their argument ensued all day and into the evening; only coming to an abrupt end when Amorette seemed to win it as they left the Louvre under the cover of darkness and wandered out into the Paris streets. Reaching the Rue de la Madeleine, Athos stopped just before the boarding house where they were to meet Lyall Fitzgerald. He turned to Amorette warily, clearly still apprehensive about this meeting. He gently tugged on her brace of pistols hidden beneath her cloak. "Don't be afraid to use these if you have to. You will not face any consequences for it if you are with me; in fact the King might just reward you. After all, the man is a traitor and a terrorist."

When they entered the tavern and approached the bar, there seemed to be a happy and relaxed ambiance. Amorette thought that it remained so purely for the fact that Athos had changed from his uniform into something a little more inconspicuous. They stood at the bar for a while as Athos observed the room and got his bearings before attempting to find the Scotsman. At length, Amorette gestured to the proprietor and gently queried the presence of her Scottish 'Friends'. The man bought her lie and nodded in the direction of a door at the far end of the large and busy room.

"I don't like this," Athos muttered in her ear.

Amorette rolled her eyes at him. "I know you don't. You've said so as many times but surely even you are curious as to why Lyall wants to meet with me?"

Athos shrugged. "Actually I don't think I am that curious; certainly not enough to warrant meeting him and likely a large contingent of his own men in the back room of a rather disreputable boarding house."

"Just as well I have curiosity enough for the both of us then isn't it Athos," called Amorette over her shoulder as she began to make for the door.

Athos tugged on her pistol brace again as he caught up with her. "Remember what I said. If you have to shoot Amorette, then do it."

Amorette may have been feigning nonchalance before Athos, but she understood very well why the musketeer was apprehensive about this meeting. She knew more than most what Lyall was like and was surely unprepared for what he was about to throw at her. She had the oddest sense of responsibility though to meet with him and hear what he had to say. Perhaps he had news of Henry or of the situation in Scotland. Sucking in a gentle breath Amorette forced herself to press down upon the door handle and push it open, not wanting to prolong things any longer.

The first glimpse of the room was one of almost darkness compared to the front room of the bar. As their eyes adjusted a little to the gloom though, Amorette and Athos were just able to make out two or three lit candles resting upon the table top. Surrounding the table were four men, only one of which Amorette knew by sight. They all scrambled to clear away their documents and maps that they had been working at before the two newcomers could catch a glimpse of anything untoward and Amorette had the slightest suspicion that such an action could only have been staged. After all, Lyall had been the one to arrange the meeting, and he had known that Amorette was coming. Thus Amorette surmised that Lyall wanted her to think that he was up to something when the real likelihood was that he was up to nothing at all.

He had aged considerably in the years since Amorette had last stood so close to him. His black hair was probably flecked with grey but Amorette couldn't tell with only the flickering candles to light her way. The monstrous shadows that the small flames cast made his sunken cheeks and tired eyes look even more grotesque. His skin was definitely of a rather sickly parlour and his clothes whilst well-made were old and shabby. It seemed Lyall had fallen on hard times, and Amorette struggled to find any sympathy for him at all. There was a stark contrast between Lyall's appearance and that of his brother Henry's. To Amorette, Henry always exuded an air of anticipation and hope. He might have just experienced the worst day of his life but he wasn't willing to give in to his own doubts.

When Lyall finally managed to hide his sheaf's of parchment and glanced up at Amorette, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Madam Cometess, I did not expect you to bring friends." His eyes roved over Athos' appearance suspiciously and Amorette sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Athos was no longer in his musketeer uniform. Lyall had never really been an observant man during those parties all those years ago. Amorette knew there was next to no chance he would recognise Athos in daylight let alone in the gloom of the room they currently stood in.

Amorette kept her face impassive. "Mon Seigneur, did you really expect me to wander in here to meet with you without bringing my own witness. Do not forget that I know you. This man is here to ensure that should you say anything untoward, a second pair of ears will have heard it all."

Amorette felt Athos shift uneasily beside her. Lyall let out a dry chuckle. "Come then, sit!"

"I'd rather stand if it's all the same to you," mumbled Amorette. "I do not intend to stay long. Say whatever it is you have to say and be done with it."

Lyall threw another glance at Athos. "Your friend, who is he? I will not speak of what I know before I man I do not trust. I would advise that you sit, Cometess. You see my three friends here do not take kindly to such hostile greetings."

Athos took heed of the warning and stepped sharply in front of Amorette, hand upon the butt of his pistol. "You may not know me mon Seigneur but know this, I'm under no illusions about what this meeting may entail. I'm here in protection of the Cometess. Do not test me, for I'm willing to shoot first and ask questions later!"

Lyall raised a slightly surprised eyebrow before gesturing to the table and chairs. "Let's not stand upon ceremony then. I've not come here for a duel; and besides, I've not brought the right duelling pistols. I came here to talk."

Athos still maintained a defensive stance but Amorette moved around him, laying a gentle hand upon his arm. "Lyall you will have to forgive my friend. He is a military man and as such, his instincts have him upon the defence. You can surely understand why?"

Lyall nodded as he relaxed back into his chair and gazed up at them both patiently. Amorette decided to try and bridge the gap by taking a seat opposite him, catching Athos' glare as she did so. "I must confess that I find you greatly changed Cometess. From the little I remember of you from so many years ago, it seems as if you have morphed into a different being altogether."

"I shall try to take that as a compliment," Amorette murmured. She felt movement behind her and Athos took the seat to her right. "You on the other hand Lyall, look as though you've seen harder times."

Lyall laughed again, and it was not a comfortable sound. There was no humour in his voice, only a coldness that was trying to disguise itself. "You are very observant Cometess. I have had rather a hard time of it recently, not helped by yourself of course. I have barely escaped England with my life after the Denbigh plot failed and face severe punishment if I return there. Paris is grand of course and the prefect hiding place, but even here I must avail of my fine clothing and jewels for there are those that would hand me over to the authorities for a few pieces of silver." He threw Athos a warning look and Amorette glanced downwards just in time to see Athos' hand curl itself into a fist beneath the table.

"Oh, I do believe I'd report you for _nothing_ mon Seigneur Fitzgerald," cried Athos. "You can have the silver to bribe your jailors for better food. The question is, why shouldn't I report you?"

Lyall smirked at Athos and raised his eyebrows in Amorette's direction. "Your friend is a shrewd one, like yourself Cometess."

"Can we cut to the chase?" Amorette asked impatiently. "When I said I wasn't staying long, I meant it."

"Some soiree to attend Cometess?" Lyall queried good naturedly before chuckling again. "You're right of course, why prolong this meeting. I know that you have always favoured my brother Henry over myself. You were even once one of his closest friends, but I am here to warn you regarding my brother. I know that you have connections here in Paris Cometess. You are a confidant of the Queen and are privy to certain fragments of news that could be classified as instrumental in the upholding of the Bourbon dynasty in France. I wish to warn you that Henry means to tear France apart. He wants a free Scotland, and he will go to any lengths to do it. The Bourbon regime has not helped him even though France and Scotland have always been allies. There are rumours that he has found solace in the Duke of Guise's home and that they are plotting together."

Amorette frowned. "Plotting what exactly?"

Lyall shook his head warily. "We cannot be absolutely sure, but there are rumours that the Valois line is not dead-"

"That rumour is years old, and worth nothing!" Interrupted Athos.

"There is no smoke without fire though Monsieur. The rumours must have been founded in some inkling of truth. Heaven knows the Medici's are always game for a war, so I'd say they are behind it somewhere. With Marie de' Medici no longer able to exert her influence over her son the French King, it is now in their best interests to find a way to claw back some control of the French crown. If that means obliterating the house of Bourbon altogether I think they would do it."

Amorette felt the beginnings of a headache growing as confusion set in. "I don't understand what this has to do with Henry though?"

"Oh come now Cometess. I thought you'd have figured that out! You always were a sharp one but it appears you've lost your touch. Henry no longer sees France as his way to a free Scotland, so what if he's chosen Spain as his newest ally? After all, the Queen of Spain is also descended from a Medici! Let's not forget the Duke of Guise though, he will be involved in this somewhere too."

"You do realise," sighed Athos, "That if anyone else were to hear this conversation you could be convicted of slander! The house of Guise… that's some very important French nobility you're talking about!"

Lyall cocked his head to the side suddenly as he took to observing Athos. Amorette felt the uncomfortable silence keenly as it bore on for a few minutes more before finally Lyall grinned. "I do believe I know you monsieur, or should that be Monsieur Comte de la Feré?"

"That title is now void," Athos muttered darkly.

"But you are descended from nobility! Of course my slating of the great French houses will not be to your liking but I'm curious as to how you have ended up here? A military man who was once nobility? Yes I can see now why the Cometess might lower herself to such company."

Amorette felt riled by the whole conversation and leaned forward as she placed her elbows on the table surface. "Lyall we are not here to trade insults," she sneered as she tried for a little menace in her voice. "You bade me come here to hear your sermon on how your brother is siding with the Medici's and trying to put a Valois back on the French throne! Do you know how ludicrous this all sounds?"

Lyall was grinning again. "And yet Cometess, you are sorely tempted to believe it. I know you cannot be close to my brother any more, for he has distanced himself from all those that he once held dear. Don't you see what he does? He makes himself an island in order to gain precedence over those who can help him free Scotland from English rule! On the whole it's a foolish move. Spain's not going to war with England; not after the whore Queen Elizabeth and her navy thrashed the Spanish Armada. They know better now."

Amorette thought she could see a sudden thread of conversation dangling before her eyes. "Is that why you haven't involved yourself in it all Lyall?" she asked conversationally. "It's just that I know you want a free Scotland as much as your brother does, even though you try to hide it. You know that Spain is useless in that regard, so you've come sneaking into Paris to try and get aid from France? Perhaps even through me?" Amorette let out a peal of laughter that seemed to surprise even Athos, who jerked a little. "I offered your brother as many French contacts as I could muster because I think if he had the right backing he would go about things the right way. Henry was always brash and uncouth but he never hid behind a lie. He gave up his inheritance and his family to fight for what he genuinely believes in! I don't think you really want a free Scotland deep down Lyall, even if you think you do. You were hiding right in the King of England's inner circle for quite some time and I think that was because you will go where the money and power is! The truth of the matter is that if you sacked the Stuart monarchy from Scotland, you'd stand to lose a great more than if they were to stay. I can't work you out Lyall, and for that reason alone I don't trust what you say."

"You're mad!" Lyall cried. "England has confiscated my lands, my title, everything! If Scotland had home rule, then all of that would be returned to me! I've been cosying up to the English King to try and get it back, but it's not working. I can't afford to fight openly for Scotland when I do not even have a place to call home!"

"None of that bother's Henry though!" Amorette shouted. "He willingly gave up everything before the English could take it from him! At least he has the courage of his convictions! How would I believe you over him?"

Her anger almost bubbling over, Athos hand on Amorette's underneath the table did not soothe her in any way. She was breathing heavily, her eyes narrowed in Lyall's direction. Lyall simply smirked at her and Amorette suddenly had the sickening feeling that he was about to play his trump card. "Of course there is another way to destroy the Spanish-scots association altogether Cometess. You may not like it though, with you being such a close friend to the French Queen. You see I am not entirely ignorant of my brother's dealings with Spain, though I pretend to be. I know there were letters sent back and forth between the Queen and Henry. I know what they contain. Publishing them would probably cause quite a lot of issues."

Amorette felt a worrying knot tighten in her stomach but did not let her outward resolve waver. Forgoing all pretence she let her secrets tumble out. "I destroyed all of those letters with my own hands Lyall. You couldn't possibly know what they contained!"

"And yet I do Cometess." Lyall leaned back even further in his chair and swung his booted feet up onto the table to rest. "I saw some with my own eyes! In Anne of Austria's own handwriting too; telling my brother all sorts of intrigues. Some of the letters still exist and I will not hesitate to use them if the need arises. Perhaps we could come to an arrangement though. No doubt you would wish to destroy those letters too and I'm happy to help you with that. Help a man out in a time of need, would you? I'll sell you the letters for my named price."

Athos snorted. "You don't even have the letters do you? If you did you'd have produced them before us now!"

Lyall's eyes flickered this way and that towards his silent friends who seemed to take little interest in the conversation at all. "I may not currently have the letters in my possession but I will-"

"We're done here!" Athos growled as he stood and pulled Amorette up with him. Amorette fought his grip of her arm but her attempts were futile as Athos dragged her back out into the bar and on out into the dark street.

"What the hell did you do that for?" she cried at him exasperatedly.

"Not here," he whispered as he glanced about nervously. Only once they had retreated to the safety of Athos' rooms did he choose to speak again. "Don't you understand what all of that was about Amorette? He was after money! Yes he may be privy to certain things that would cause some suspicion but I don't think he really wanted to warn you about his brother. All of that was said for effect. He knows somehow that you would try to protect Henry if you could and attempt to stop him from doing anything rash. He's played on your insecurities to try and swindle you out of money! I'm willing to bet he's never seen one of those letters in his life!"

"Then how did he know to use them against me and against Henry?" Amorette cried as she sank down into the bed.

"Rumour perhaps, like everything else. You said before that he was a manipulative man so I don't know why you're surprised by this. Men like him thrive off rumour and intrigue. He probably doesn't even believe half of what he's just told you Amorette!"

Amorette buried her head in her hands as her headache increased in volume. "So what you're saying is that you were right?" She looked up at Athos through the gaps between her fingers.

Athos sat beside her with a heavy sigh and threw an arm around her shoulder. "I'm not saying that at all Amorette. You're right in that Lyall was up to something and it was worth meeting him to find out what that something is. Now we know what type of game he's playing and we can take measures to ensure that he does not influence others in Paris."

Amorette shook her head slightly to ward off the ache. "I'm just so confused now. I think that was all a little too much information to take in. I've got a terrible headache now."

Athos fell back to lie across the bed and pulled Amorette down with him. "I'm sure I can think of one or two ways to remedy that." He leaned in to kiss her and Amorette pulled back.

"Athos aren't you slightly worried about what we've just been told? There's a potential plot to overthrow the King that might have come all the way from the Medici's or some distant Valois line and you want to…" Amorette gesticulated with her hand as Athos grinned at her.

"I'm sure there will be nothing in it, but I'll speak with Treville tomorrow and even the King if I have to. I'll relate all of the information to them and they can decide what they wish to do with it. I will have to tell them about Lyall though," Athos mused as an afterthought. "He will more than likely be arrested if he's found tomorrow."

Well I'm not sorry about that," mumbled Amorette.

The next morning brought with it the realisation that her headache still had not lifted. Amorette padded to the window and threw back the drapes to let some light in. Opening a the window a fraction she leaned forward to breathe in the fresh morning air and absorbed the sounds of early morning Paris. People seemed to be up and about and heading for the Les Halles market already and Amorette almost turned to scold Athos for letting them lie for so long when something caught her eye. It had just been a flash of material at the end of the street; or rather the flash of a pattern. Sure that she had just seen tartan somewhere Amorette stood on her tiptoes to get a better look of the street. She couldn't glimpse it anywhere though and supposed it had rounded a corner somewhere. Amorette lowered herself back onto the soles of her feet and the movement came just in time as something large and heavy hurtled into the window pane. Shards of glass flew everywhere as Athos jumped up from the bed and grabbed Amorette by the waist. He moved on instinct, curling them both into the wall at the side of the window and shielded Amorette's head with one of his arms.

They both took sharp and exhilarated breaths as the room fell into nothingness again. The shards of glass that littered the floor glinted prettily in the sunlight almost like patches of frost and the street below sounded as it had done moments before. Sensing that there were no more projectiles on their way, Athos moved across the room towards the large rock that someone had evidently thrown through his window. Heavy and uneven, it must have come from one of the city's quarries as it didn't much resemble a brick.

"Are you hurt?" Athos asked Amorette as he moved towards the window again.

"I think I moved just in time," said Amorette as she plucked a shard of glass out of her hair.

Athos set the rock down on the window ledge and glanced through the broken window down into the street. Suddenly he emitted a growl so low that Amorette drew back from him slightly. With no explanation Athos tore his doublet from a chair where he had left it, snarled at Amorette to stay where she was and raced out of the room and down the stairs. Amorette reached the window in time to witness another glimpse of tartan before she watched Athos emerge from the alleyway that led from the courtyard a few seconds later. He looked right and then left before setting off down the street in a rage.

Amorette stuffed herself haphazardly into her dress and followed Athos out into the street. Trying to follow him was futile but she went in the general direction that he had run in and turned corner after corner for a while before thinking it might be best to turn back. A thought came to her then that she might check the garrison. She dashed around a few more corners until she reached the large archway and discovered she had thought right. Even from the other end of the archway she glimpsed the flash of tartan as a man fell into the dusty ground. Amorette raced forward just as Athos advanced towards the man.

"Athos! What are you doing?" she cried even as he threw out an arm to knock her out of the way. A little off balance from her scuttle through the streets Amorette felt herself land on the ground herself. Lyall Fitzgerald might have looked tired and decrepit but it appeared he still had the agility of a man of his young age. He was back on his feet in no time, a cut lip the only evidence that Athos' fist had made contact with his face and launched his own punch towards Athos. Amorette jumped up again and when grabbing onto Athos' arm didn't work a second time, she threw herself between the two men. A fist stopped a little short of her face and Athos glared at her before lowering his arm. "What good will fighting do? Athos he's just after a reaction and you're giving it to him!"

"She's right," snarled Lyall. "The rock was just a ploy to clear your head a little, musketeer!"

Athos grabbed Lyall by the lapels with shaking hands and threw him against a wooden pillar. A strange calmness took him over in that second and he let out a deep breath. "The problem is that you almost hit _her_ , and that's not something I can stand for!"

"Lock me away in the Bastille then Musketeer! I've broken in and out before so I'm sure I'll manage it again!" Amorette gasped as the realisation hit her and Athos glanced at her for a split second, but it was enough time for Lyall to catch caught him off guard with a punch to the side of the head. When Athos finally came around twenty minutes later, it was not Amorette looking down upon him as he lay in the dirt, but Aramis. Amorette sat at his side but was looking off into the distance in the direction of the street through the archway. Athos groaned as he sat up and clutched the side of his head. "Please tell me one of you caught him?" he groaned.

Aramis shook his head. "We were too late to even see what direction he went in."

"He knows his cards are on the table now," mumbled Amorette, "He won't go back to where he was staying last night. He knows you'll be looking for him. He'd be a fool not to leave Paris as soon as he can. We know one thing though. Henry didn't send Gaspard to kill me that night. Lyall sent him, but why not just kill me last night when he had the chance?"

Aramis shook his head warily. "Perhaps he only intended for the boy to scare you. Gaspard was out for blood that night though, and you wouldn't give up his brother. I don't think Lyall would have seen that coming."

 _ **Not sure I'm feeling this chapter. It's a bit of a bridge to the next part of the story really but I wonder what Lyall's got up his sleeve next?**_


	52. Chapter 52

_**In which Athos finds himself in a spot of bother.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

There was no trace of Lyall Fitzgerald anywhere in Paris in the following days. It was with reluctance that the musketeers had to give up their search of him due to their other responsibilities.

Those four escaped prisoners still unaccounted for were political prisoners to say the least. They were both English and Spanish respectively and as such, if they were to return home to their own lands they could cause untold trouble for France and Paris most of all. It was with reluctance therefore that three months after the breakout when a tip-off came their way; the musketeers were forced to make a journey towards Reims in the hopes of finding one of the prisoners hiding out.

A little over a week after they had left Paris, Amorette and Constance received word that the men thought their stay in Reims would be far longer than anticipated, perhaps by even a month or two. With them gone Amorette's court-life took precedence over her personal one and she was left little time to dwell upon the latter. Strangely, she seemed to have fallen back into the Queen's inner circle purely by accident; despite her protests that she no longer wished to be the Queen's spy. It felt somehow right though, to try and build their strained friendship again now that uncertain times lay ahead.

It was also comforting to always be surrounded by people whilst Athos was not there. The little time that Amorette did have at her own disposal was spent in her own rooms and that was certainly when she felt most lost and alone. To finally have some semblance of a relationship with him and to have it stilted every time his duties took him outside Paris was not how Amorette had envisioned it at all, but she resolved to believe that it was far better than how things had been when she had first returned to Paris. To dissolve back into ignorance and bitterness between them both would be the worst kind of torture.

It was with a reserved sort of calm that Amorette congratulated the Queen upon her good news. She was with child again, and already beginning to show the signs physically. Whilst the other ladies of the Queen's court and household rejoiced euphorically and a ball was held in the Queen's honour, Amorette was not able to celebrate as everyone else did. Constance even managed to dispel her own suspicions and carry on as if she did not know of the Queen's secret tryst with Aramis, but Amorette could not do so readily enough. It became too much for Amorette to be within the Queen's enclosed inner circle whilst in the knowledge that Aramis was out there somewhere, not knowing that he could potentially be a father for the second time. There was nothing for Amorette to do though, as she had no wish to question the Queen or dispute any of her reasoning's. In fact, she had resolved to steer herself away from meddling in anyone else's relationships.

Thus Amorette decided that the time had come for a trip into the country again. She had neglected some minor renovation work of her mother's house in Provins for a long time and now seemed the perfect opportunity to leave the city behind her for a time. Finally having the option of providing Léo with some work, Amorette offered him some money in exchange for his services which he greatly accepted. Tilda and Léo were both set to leave with Amorette one blustery January morning when they were met in the courtyard of the Louvre by four musketeers. Walking amongst them was what Amorette supposed must be one of the escaped prisoners. With his hands shackled and his head bowed in defeat, Amorette thought he looked a sorry sight. Clearly he had been driven into the wilderness where he had tried to survive judging by his dishevelled appearance, but it hadn't lasted that long once the musketeers were upon his trail. Everyone turned to stare as he was led into the entrance hall of the Louvre and upstairs.

Amorette didn't doubt that he was being taken straight for an audience with the king and she winced slightly at the thought of the Queen being there. Aramis was an observant man, and he would certainly not miss the slightly larger swell of her breasts and the slightest of bumps that was visible beneath her dress. It would also be apparent in the way that the Queen held herself lately, as if she carried cargo far too precious and sacred. Amorette hoped that the Queen would be absent, for finding such a thing out in front of the King and his advisors would surely cause Aramis great pain and confusion.

Perhaps if Amorette caught a second or two with him, she could warn him to expect the news. She differed her trip for an hour or two and followed the curious courtiers back inside the Louvre, and she did not have long to wait. Treville passed them all as they waited on the staircase for news and entered the King's presence chamber. Everyone else chattered and quarrelled upon the matter but Amorette waited with baited breath, wondering if the prisoner upstairs had knowledge of the man who had aided his breakout. Surely Athos would have the sense to ensure that he asked such a question and received an agreeable answer. Amorette understood the importance of such a witness account.

Over an hour later, the musketeers finally emerged again, ushering their prisoner back out into the entrance hall and down the staircase. The crowd thinned to let them pass and when Athos glimpsed Amorette wrapped up warm in her traveling cloak and hat he broke away from the group and moved towards her. Gently he took her arm in his grip and led her downstairs and towards a small, deserted, cloistered courtyard.

"The man we brought back to Paris is Goito Flores," announced Athos when he had confirmed that they were alone. "He's a Spanish mercenary and notorious killer. He was apprehended in Metz a little over a year ago where he committed his crimes but was brought to Paris to aid other investigations. Not many knew that he was being held in the Bastille. Not even us!"

Amorette stepped closer to him as she slipped off her leather gloves; somehow desperate for the touch of his skin against hers having not seen him for over a month. "What are you saying, Athos?"

He sighed heavily as he let her take hold of his hands. "I think there was some sort of inside knowledge regarding the breakout. That is, someone in Paris passed information to the Spanish. I don't necessarily believe that a musketeer or Red Guard leaked anything, but perhaps they gave up the information unwillingly. The Red Guards are being rather tight lipped on the matter and of course that has made Treville suspicious."

"But if you didn't even know, then how did this person know to even go looking for such information? Do you think Spain sent agents?" Amorette queried.

Athos shrugged gently. "We cannot be sure yet. All that we know is that someone means France very ill. Those prisoners can cause the destruction of Paris if they so wish to. They are dangerous and cunning men who in the wrong hands can tear this kingdom apart from the seams. My guess is that they would start in Paris and work their way out."

Amorette swallowed nervously. That was what everyone in Paris was secretly fretting about. If Paris was brought to its knees, it wouldn't be long before the rest of France fell too. "This man you brought back to Paris today; did he supply any information about who orchestrated the jail break?"

Athos shook his head. "He did confirm that be believed the man to have a Scots accent, but apart from that he could give us no more information. He did not see the man's face so I'm afraid it is only your word and mine that Lyall Fitzgerald caused the breakout. Goito has been kept alive to aid other investigations and as a bargaining chip against the Spanish but after this break out I'm afraid he isn't long for the word. The King has decreed that once apprehended the men are to be brought back to Paris for interrogation and then executed at the earliest opportunity. He's waved the importance of the other investigations and intelligence in favour of their deaths in case something similar happens in future.

Amorette remained quiet, still trying to understand why Lyall had been involved in the first place. Athos sighed heavily as he looked down at her warily. "There has been no word from either Fitzgerald brother I trust?" Amorette shook her head. "It is odd that he hasn't tried to contact you again. Perhaps it's all part of some greater plan."

Amorette shook her head in disbelief. "I just have a feeling that I can't seem to shake it off; that he's trying to cause trouble for Henry. I don't want to think that Henry would really have decided to side with Spain!" Athos nodded as he watched her closely, his eyeline falling to her traveling cloak. "I'm going into the country for a few days. There's things I need to see to with the house so I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. I had thought you'd be gone longer than this."

Athos nodded in understanding. "We had thought so too. You're leaving today?"

"Yes," sighed Amorette. "As soon as you and I have spoken I'll be on my way but there's something I need to ask you. Was the Queen upstairs when you spoke with the King?"

"No, why?"

Amorette felt a wave of relief wash over her. "I suppose you should be the one to warn Aramis rather than me, and perhaps it will be good for one of your group to be aware of what's going on just in case." Athos was gazing at Amorette curiously now, obviously completely unaware of the news she was about to break to him. "The King and Queen have announced that they are expecting another child. When Aramis sees her, he will be in no doubt of that because she is already beginning to show. I'm glad that you will have the chance to prepare him before he comes face to face with her."

To say that Athos' expression was troubled was an understatement. He sucked in a sharp breath and Amorette saw his eyes flickering this way and that as he asked himself the inevitable question. "Has she spoken with you privately about this matter?"

Amorette shook her head. "That is, she has not mentioned whether there is any doubt as to who the father may be, but I'm sure in this case you will be able to figure things out better than me. I will not discuss marital relations between the King and Queen openly, but I think perhaps it is for Aramis to decipher it himself or at least seek a private audience with the Queen to discuss it if he believes there may be any doubts."

"Thank you for letting me know," murmured Athos. "You're right in that it's better that one of us knows so that Aramis has someone to talk to. I hope for his own sake that the child is not his. There's enough chaos knowing the Dauphin is his."

Amorette nodded. "I should really be going. Tilda and Léo are waiting for me." To her relief Athos did not question why Amorette was leaving Paris or try to stop her. Instead he simply gathered her into his arms for a long moment and buried his face in her hair.

Then the inevitable question came. "You couldn't postpone your travels for one more day could you? I'll help unload your horse myself if it means you'll say yes?"

Amorette grinned at Athos as he raised his eyebrows. He wasn't in jest. "Léo and Tilda won't be very happy to have the arrangements changed at such short notice!"

Athos nodded slowly as he mulled over something. "Why don't you let them go on ahead? You could follow on tomorrow morning?"

"I like how much thought you're giving to this," Amorette whispered with a chuckle. "I'll have a word with them and give them the option of waiting until tomorrow or going on ahead. Then they can do what they wish."

Amorette thought winter in Provins was rather beautiful and tranquil. Léo had been moaning about the cold almost from the moment they had arrived but Tilda seemed to enjoy the peacefulness of the country house as Amorette did. They had spent the first few days mucking out the stables and organising things in the cellar before retreating towards the attic of the house. There, Amorette looked upon the old paintings that had once hung in that house and in others that had belonged to her family. Her mother had rotated the paintings every year or two but Amorette had yet to do so since her mother's death. In fact, she had done very little to the house at all since her mother had died. Her mother had such a connection with the house that Amorette almost felt she was tarnishing her memory by changing anything at all, but slowly she was coming to her senses. Athos had been right in that it would take more strength to keep the house within the family rather than sell it, but Amorette was beginning to realise that it was just the sort of challenge that she wanted.

There was a strange sense of anticipation perhaps brought about by her new lease of confidence that had her aching now to tear the house apart and put it all back together again. There was not much building or renovation work that needed done at all because Amorette liked the layout of the house just as it was. There could be potential changes to décor which Amorette had decided to take some time to organise properly and perhaps commence the work in the summer months. For now she would settle for moving the furniture and having the paintings switched. For this, she had enlisted Léo's help and was grateful that she had thought to do so. She and Tilda could not have moved some of the larger pieces of furniture on their own and when it came to trying to fetch the larger portraits from the attic, they quickly discovered that Léo was best left alone to such a task. Amorette and Tilda only seemed to get in his way and so one rainy morning they retreated to the kitchen fireside, chuckling lightly at Léo's irritated protests for them to leave it all to him.

Amorette and Tilda spent a happy hour sorting out Amorette's larder with plans to take a trip into the local town market on a dryer day and replenish it before they heard Léo calling to them from the stairs. Amorette wandered out towards the front of the house, not realising the urgency of his cries.

Léo was standing at the top of the stairs and quickly pointed towards the road through the upstairs window. "Riders Madam! Six of them!"

"What?" cried Amorette as she tore into the Parlour and towards the front facing windows. Sure enough, just visible at the bend of the road were six riders swathed in black, galloping towards the house on horseback. From her vantage point Amorette could make nothing out regarding their appearance or identity through the pelting rain. She leapt back out into the hallway and grabbed the pair of Pistols that lay ready on a side table. Tilda had now reached the hallway, and Léo had reached the bottom of the stairs. Together all three of them began to move backwards until Amorette could look through the parlour door and out of one of the windows. She could see nothing from that vantage point though and on impulse she held out an arm towards Léo. "Take it!" she growled at him as she forced one of the pistols into his hands. "Take it and get yourselves into the kitchen. Bar the door and be ready to run through the back door!"

Amorette was moving backwards along the hallway all the while, ushering the others towards the kitchen door. "You want us to just leave you?" Tilda cried.

"I want to know who they are and what they want!" Amorette replied. "Go! Now!"

Tilda and Léo began to move quicker, stumbling towards the kitchen door. Knowing they had reached it Amorette began to move forwards again and re-entered the parlour. Watching from the side of one of the windows she waited for the approach of the six riders, her worry increasing second by second. She brought her pistol up to chest height in readiness and let loose the catch. Whoever these people were, they obviously knew that they wanted to be here, for they travelled at a rapid speed towards the house, the rain bouncing off their black heavy cloaks. Suddenly a thought jarred in Amorette's mind. Had her father finally succumbed to his deepest desire and sent men to kill her? He would not want to be left out of such a mission though. He would have come amongst them to make sure that the job was done. Or was it something else? Had the Spanish that she crossed when in employ of the Queen finally plucked up the courage to breach the French borders in search of her?

Amorette could now ascertain that all of the riders were definitely men purely because of their size and of how they carried themselves. They were almost at the house now, and Amorette let out an involuntary whimper as the closest rider tugged on his reins and the horse reared up on its hind legs before stopping. The others followed suit and Amorette shrank back a little to let the drapes shield her face a little more. If Amorette shot from here and hit one of them, she would rile them even more. She thought she could almost hear her heartbeat reverberating around the room as it beat rapidly against her ribcage. She stifled a yelp as she bit down on her tongue and pushed herself further back into the drapes a little more.

The six men began to dismount, with the first heading straight for the doors to batter them with force. Amorette didn't flinch, but watched as the other men began to follow suit and as one of the thick black cloaks fluttered a little with the man's movement she glimpsed the slightest stretch of familiar blue fabric from underneath. Her fear swiftly turned to rage and Amorette's hands continued to shake as she tore out into the hallway and pulled the latch free. She glanced back quickly at the kitchen doorway where Léo and Tilda still stood. Someone was still thumping on the door from the other side and Amorette grabbed the handle. The door flew open as the man was mid-knock.

"What the hell do you think you're doing riding up the road like that and scaring us half to death?"

The man at the door pulled his hood down and Amorette found herself staring into the face of Porthos. He laughed a little at Amorette's angry stance but as her expression stayed in place his laughter faded away. "We're sorry," called Athos from behind him. "some of us wanted shelter from the rain rather quicker than others." With a jerk of the head Athos directed Amorette's eyeline towards the man who brought up the rear of the group. Slightly smaller than all of the others in stature and tightly holding his cloak around him, he certainly seemed more eager to reach the shelter of the hallway. Amorette stood aside to let them in and saw Athos quickly glance down at the pistol still held in her hand. As the others congregated in the hall and began to peel off their sodden cloaks he leaned down and whispered. "We really are sorry, we didn't mean to scare you. We have nowhere else to go; you'll understand that when we explain it all to you."

Amorette turned to glance up at his tired and drawn expression. He clearly hadn't slept at all the previous evening and his movements were rather sluggish. She knew better than to badger them with questions in the hallway and so she turned back to the other five men to confirm that they were indeed Athos' three friends and their musketeer captain and the Duke of Buckingham.

"George what on earth are you doing here?" Amorette cried. Of all the people that she might have found travelling with the musketeers, the Duke of Buckingham was the least expected of all.

Ignoring her outburst, Buckingham turned and made his way to towards the Kitchen. "Got any brandy?" he called over his shoulder.

A warm fire and a glass of brandy each seemed to do little to calm the nerves of everyone apart from Buckingham. It had become clear to Amorette after their arrival that the musketeers were clearly very worried about something, and Athos seemed almost spooked. Amorette thought she might have got the whole truth out of him if they had a moment alone but with five other men occupying her kitchen at that precise time it wouldn't be likely they'd get time alone.

"Is someone going to tell me what all of this is about?" Amorette leaned across the table to try and catch Athos' eye but he kept his gaze averted. She looked at each of them in turn until her gaze came to rest upon D'artagnan.

The youngest man threw his friends a slightly disgruntled look when he realised that it had been left to him to provide the explanations, but seemed resigned to fulfilling his duty of passing on the news. "Lyall Fitzgerald is dead," he mumbled.

"He is?" Amorette queried. "Right, well it's not that I would have wished death upon him or anyone like him but he wasn't a very pleasant fellow. I can't imagine him being a great loss to the world."

"He was murdered," Athos said suddenly with a stern look in her direction. "Which is in itself the issue. He was killed in his bed whilst he slept last night. That would be classed as an unprovoked attack. I was seen quarrelling with him a few nights ago and have no alibi for last night."

Amorette felt her jaw grow slack as she gazed at him. "Sorry but what am I missing? You told me a while ago that if I shot Lyall I'd face no consequences because the man was a terrorist! You wanted to arrest him!"

Athos nodded. "I did tell you that, but you'd have only been shooting at him if it were entirely necessary. They were sending Red Guards to arrest me this morning because it's believed that after I fought with him I returned to that boarding house a few days later to kill him. The fact is they believe I killed a prominent Scottish nobleman in cold blood without provocation. He more than likely had information which would have been detrimental to our cause and now no one will ever obtain that information."

Amorette was still confused. "Why didn't you arrest him when you argued with him a few days ago?"

Treville cleared his throat sharply before Athos could reply. "I would like to hear the answer to that question myself Madam."

"Because of you," Athos muttered. "When we met with Lyall he had a lot to say for himself. When he came in search of me for a fight I realised that he was there for a reason. Once he had been informed that you had left Paris I saw his resolve falter. I do believe that he would have supplied more integral information to you Madam if he had been given the chance. I tried to reason with him to wait for your return but he wouldn't hear of it. I even offered to arrange another meet between you and himself to placate him a little. At that point though he wanted nothing more than to fight with me. I know that I should have made pains to arrest him, but I was alone and thought it better to walk away rather than try to tackle him myself when he had friends in tow. Porthos and D'artagnan returned to the boarding house the next day but he was not there."

"Why wasn't I informed of this?" Treville asked.

"If we'd locked him in the Bastille he'd have clammed up and not said a word," Porthos announced. "Besides, he'd already broken out once so chances where he would do it again. We thought it might be easier to get the information out of him whilst he was still a free man."

Treville looked troubled. "I understand your reasoning, but you all should have come to me with this! If this goes even deeper, then I can't help you because I had no knowledge of it. In a sense, you disobeyed direct orders."

"How did he die?" Amorette asked quietly.

"He was asleep," Aramis replied with a sympathetic smile. "He was strangled whilst he slept."

Amorette bit her bottom lip as she let herself drop deep into her thoughts, a nagging collection of visions swimming before her eyes of Athos with an aimed musket. "Athos, surely it would be more plausible for you to have shot him if you committed the crime," she mused after a few seconds.

"Tell that to the English and Scottish ambassadors," muttered Treville. "All they are concerned with is the cold and hard facts. Athos was seen fighting with the man and left him in a perfectly well state according to witnesses, but he was not seen again until his body was found in his rooms days later by the landlord. Apparently, his friends had left Paris after that fight-"

"Then who identified the body?" Amorette interrupted.

Aramis threw Amorette a grin. "You see Cometess, we're beginning to rub off on you a little aren't we. The Scottish ambassador identified the body as Lyall Fitzgerald."

Amorette played with the fraying cuff of her sleeve as she tried to picture the Scottish ambassador. "Isn't he an old man with terrible eyesight? Who's to say the body isn't someone else and this is all some trick?"

"I see where you're going with this Cometess; but the ambassador identified the man by his jewellery. Lyall was wearing a signet ring engraved with his family crest. Even without the Scottish ambassador he'd have likely been identified."

Amorette glanced up at Buckingham then, who had been silent for the whole conversation. "George; you still haven't told me how you are involved in all of this?"

Amorette felt Athos eyes resting upon her in that moment and turned to him. "The Duke of Buckingham was the one to warn us of my intended arrest. Without such a warning I would certainly be languishing in a prison in Paris by now."

Amorette didn't know what to say as she looked between the two friends who meant the most to her in the world. Clearly, there had never been any love lost between Buckingham and the musketeers, so Buckingham's aid had more than likely been offered for her own benefit. Buckingham knew what Athos meant to Amorette, and in that moment, he had forgotten all of his grievances against the musketeer to ensure his safety. Amorette couldn't explain even to herself how touched she was by such an action.

"You might still be," Buckingham announced. "If you don't get to the bottom of all of this!"

"And how exactly do we do that?" Amorette asked. If you're the number one suspect Athos, then that means they have no other leads."

Buckingham scratched his chin in thought. "I suppose the Cometess and I could return to Paris and ask to identify the body just to be certain. We could claim to be friends of his and I doubt anyone would argue. I may not have liked the man but I certainly know what he looked like," he said to the room at large before turning to speak solely to Amorette. "But Amorette I'm sure the Scottish ambassador has it right. You're clutching at straws with such a theory."

Sacha Rouzet met Amorette and the Duke of Buckingham just off the Rue de la Bariere at the edge of the city and together they made their way to the Hôpital de la Charité. At the gates, they met Léo who had ridden ahead to get a message to Sacha. Accompanying the boy was a Red Guard captain who was shortly afterwards introduced as Eustis and he led them though the crammed outer hallways of the building until they reached a narrow tunnel which Amorette thought was another hallway. It was only as they stepped into the gloom that she realised this was a cramped room. She let her hand slip around Buckingham's arm as they continued to walk, the swinging lanterns held aloft by Léo and Eustis only adding to the dank atmosphere. Sure enough, a few seconds later Amorette glimpsed the sight of tables lining either side of the tunnel all draped with off-white linens. Amorette deliberately banished the thought of what might be hidden by the linens and focused her attention straight ahead. She tried not to breathe through her nose in anticipation of the smell but it was no use, it began to seep almost into her very pores and Amorette felt the severe desire to retch.

There was something else that permeated her senses though; a lighter fragrance that seemed to swell from nearby. Glancing down, she realised what it was; lavender. Buckingham was crushing the lavender buds between his fingers to perfume around them, and it appeared he had given some to everyone but her. _He must have taken them from the house before we left_ , Amorette mused as she leaned in to her friend and realised that he was not so unaffected by a mortuary as she would have expected. He wore a grim expression that told her he was not at all comfortable being surrounded by the dead despite Amorette's suspicions that he had indeed killed several people in his lifetime. It was always been necessary though, and in the saving of his own life or that of others that he had done so; or at least that was what he had let Amorette believe. It was ironic really that he felt uncomfortable here when most of his still living enemies were much more of a threat than the poor dead of Paris.

At long length Eustis stopped beside a table and they all began to congregate around him as the lanterns began to still, hovering in the air above the body. Eustis seemed to throw what was a wary look to Amorette before he rather roughly removed the top of the sheet to reveal the head of a man in his early thirties, who looked wholly unfamiliar to her. Amorette swallowed heavily as her eyes lowered to glimpse the ligature marks around the man's neck before she shook her head meekly.

"This isn't Lyall Fitzgerald!" she confirmed.

"You're sure?" asked Sacha as he tugged on her wrist lightly.

Buckingham turned away from the table sharply with a disgruntled look on his face and Amorette understood he wanted to play the part of a rich man who had had a wasted journey. "Of course she's sure man! We may not have liked Lyall Fitzgerald, me more than others but I think that certainly gives us cause to know his appearance. It is said we see the faces of the people we detest in our minds more than those who we love."

 **So, is Aramis baby daddy again; and how will he react if he is? And is Athos really innocent? What if Lyall said something in that fight that left Athos with no choice but to kill him?**

 **There's a bit more detail about that fight between Athos and Lyall in the next chapter; and Amorette's rather slippery father will be making a return in the next chapter (or the one after that if I get carried away again!).**


	53. Chapter 53

_**I only own Amorette**_.

"The Question is," mumbled Amorette as she took a step back from the table, "Why on earth did anyone think that this was Lyall?"

Eustis coughed awkwardly. "Well he was found in the rooms Lyall was renting; wearing his family ring and there's this." With the land not holding up a lantern, he reached for the linen covering and tugged it even further down the body. Sacha, Buckingham and Amorette appraised first a white shirt and the beginnings of a set of brown breaches just visible beneath the end of the linen before Amorette realised what Eustis wanted to draw attention to. Wound around the man's left arm was a strip of tartan fabric in the Campbell colours of black, green and blue. The Fitzgerald brothers' uncle Campbell was the Duke of Argyll, and those were his colours. Amorette swallowed painfully and threw a glance at Buckingham who seemed to be sharing her thoughts in that moment.

"Perhaps then this man is one of Lyall's men?" Buckingham announced to the group. "But either way he is not Lyall Fitzgerald. I think our business here is concluded Cometess."

"Lead the way Duc," called Sacha with a gesture to depart and the group began to retreat back down the dank tunnel the way that they had come.

"And of course there is the scar on the back of Lyall's neck that I gave him that is the telling factor," Buckingham called from ahead of Amorette. "Do you remember that day Cometess, when-"

"How visible was the scar?" came Eustis' voice from the rear.

Amorette tore her attention towards the Red Guard captain who was much older than the rest of the group. He was clearly an agile man, with a strong build and adhortative demeanour. His hair was grey and his face, although a little wrinkled was still expressively youthful. He was more than likely even older than he looked. He had stopped still in the middle of the tunnel, his attention fixed on Buckingham.

"It was a deep wound," replied Buckingham curtly. "made with the hilt of a dagger."

Amorette well remembered the day that Buckingham and Lyall Fitzgerald had torn shreds from one another on her father's lawn. It had started out as mere play fighting, but even in the beginning there had been the underlying emotion of resentment there. A lot of the men had laughed and guffawed as if it were all one big joke, but Amorette had seen the hatred in the sparing men's eyes. They had fought like cat and dog; biting and throwing punches and kicks until Lyall had produced a dagger that he had hidden in his boot. Had Buckingham not been on form that day, Amorette was well aware that Lyall would more than likely have killed him. As it was, Buckingham had managed to wrestle the dagger from Lyall before the Scotsman could do any real damage with it and knocked him out cold with a blow to the back of the neck with the hilt of the dagger.

Buckingham could have killed Lyall that day and perhaps he should have done. No one would have argued with such an action after watching Lyall pull the knife upon Buckingham. The English Duke had walked away, wiping blood away from his own bloody nose as he went. Lyall and Buckingham were rarely seen in each other's company again after that day. Henry was incensed that his brother had tried to kill one of his closest friends and disowned his brother, vowing never to speak with him again.

Eustis did not speak again, but instead moved back down the tunnel a little. Amorette and Buckingham shared an apprehensive glance before turning to follow the swinging light of the lantern. Once again Eustis stopped, his hand hovering above the linen coverings of another body. "Perhaps the Cometess might care to look away? I must warn you that this one is not a pretty sight."

Amorette shook her head and stared resolutely forwards. "Monsieur we came here for a reason. If this is the man that we know, then the Duke and I are both required to identify his body so that there may be no doubt."

Eustis let out a heavy sigh as Buckingham nodded in agreement with Amorette. This time there was no quick movement of the sheet and Eustis tugged it away from the body ever so slowly that Amorette was convinced he expected her to cry out for him to stop at any second. She didn't though, and glimpsed first a mass of tangled black hair before a green-tinged mottled and wrinkled forehead came into view. Amorette raised her hand to cover her mouth to hide her look of shock as Lyall's facial features slowly became visible. Eustis folded the linen at Lyall's neck and took a step back.

Buckingham moved forward to have a closer look, bending down a little to ascertain if the scar he had given the Scotsman was still in place at the base of his neck and as Amorette too dared to look, she realised it would be a difficult thing to decipher. Great welts on the neck of the corpse told them all that this man too had been strangled.

"He was pulled from the Seine three mornings ago," supplied Eustis.

"Strangled first?" Buckingham asked without looking away from the corpse.

Eustis frowned. "The physician who first examined the body said he could not be entirely sure. You see, there was also a head wound clearly visible. Oddly, corpses seem to retain the head whilst the rest of the body decomposes in water. There was certainly fluid in his lungs, but we cannot tell whether it was that; strangulation or a blow to the head that ended his life."

"So these two bodies are clearly connected?" Sacha asked.

Eustis scratched his chin. "We cannot be certain."

"But they were both strangled!" Amorette cried indignantly as she finally managed to tear her eyes away from the horrific sight of Lyall's body. "That man was wearing Lyall's clothes and jewellery! Clearly something is amiss here!"

"The ligature marks from this corpse may be the result of the body becoming tangled in netting or rope within the water. The physician believes that's what stopped the body being carried away by the tide. The man might have hit his head, stumbled into the river and got himself tangled. This death might be entirely accidental."

Sacha shook his head vehemently. "Eustis you are an intelligent man, don't tell me you believe that?"

Eustis shrugged his shoulders. "I'm not inclined to but all avenues of investigation must be looked into."

Amorette had to force herself to bite her tongue and remain silent. If the Red Guard were looking into these deaths properly, Athos wouldn't be a suspect.

An hour later they stood on the corner of the Rue de la Cersaie, taking shelter from the rain beneath one of the overhanging upper floors. Eustis had gone back to his post and only then had the group felt comfortable enough to discuss the matter freely. Léo was oddly rather useful. Having grown up in Paris, he explained the particular sites along the river that were more commonly known for suicides or for the disposing of a body. The conversation had a slightly morbid tinge to it that didn't sit well with Amorette, but she listened resolutely as the three men talked, lest any important information be passed on. They had spent a short while at a pretty little boulangerie that Buckingham knew was tucked well out of the way, but Amorette hadn't been able to recover her now destroyed appetite enough to eat anything.

"I think it would be wise to seek an appointment with the Scottish ambassador if we can," suggested Sacha.

Amorette shook her head quickly as she cleared her throat to speak for the first time in over an hour. "We don't have very much time Sacha. I'd like to be back in Provins by nightfall if possible and the ambassador might keep us waiting all day."

Buckingham let out a gentle and easy laugh. "Amorette, he will see you rather quickly I think. Especially if he knows you have information relating to the death of a prominent Scottish noble in Paris. I think it might be best if you and Monsieur Rouzet take that news to him alone though!"

"You're not coming with us George?" Amorette asked with a frown.

Buckingham shook his head gently. "No; I think perhaps I should seek out the English ambassador and see what he knows about all of this business."

Sacha scratched his chin in thought for a few seconds before saying, "But mon Seigneur, won't you be kept waiting also?"

Buckingham laughed rather loudly this time. "What's my name?" he quipped arrogantly. When the others simply gazed back at him blankly he repeated his question. "What's my name?"

Amorette suddenly grinned at her friend's aloof arrogance that seemed to get him anywhere he wanted to go. "George Villiers," she whispered almost reluctantly as he doffed his hat to them and disappeared into the rain.

Buckingham had been right about the Scottish ambassador. Amorette and Sacha were told that under no circumstances could they attain an appointment from the man that very day, but when Sacha covertly mentioned Lyall Fitzgerald, they were ushered into the man's office in mere minutes. The Scottish ambassador was a wizened old man with tufts of wispy white hair on his head and a beard to match. He had such a stopped figure that he was barely the same height as Amorette. She and Sacha shared an apprehensive glance as the man finished off some piece of paperwork upon his desk before finally giving them his attention.

"Cometess, monsieur; please sit." Amorette had to stifle a laugh when she realised the man was addressing a spot above Sacha's left shoulder. His eyesight was clearly terrible. "I understand you are an acquaintance of the Laird Fitzgerald, Cometess?"

Amorette opened her mouth to speak, but she felt Sacha's touch upon her gloved hand halting her. "I'm afraid mon seigneur ambassadeur, that the Cometess will act upon the instruction of her lawyer in this matter, and I think it better she withholds any such information at present."

The Scotsman scoffed and lifted his quill to continue his work. "Then why is she here? Come back when your lawyer is not so impertinent Cometess."

Amorette brushed off Sacha's hand and leaned forward a little in her chair. "Mon seigneur ambassadeur you must understand that my friend here is only being protective. I was an acquaintance of the Laird Fitzgerald; but I would not say we were friends. That is why I am hesitant to speak of my knowing him. Perhaps you might think I did not know him well enough to even be here before you, but I assure you that I knew his appearance well. The man that you identified as Lyall Fitzgerald yesterday is not in fact him!"

"That's p…preposterous!" the Scotsman spluttered. "He wore the Fitzgerald ring and the Campbell tartan! There was no doubt it was him."

Amorette sighed in frustration. Perhaps it was a fruitless escapade, but she had to at least try. "I see your point monsieur, but you have never met the man yourself and do not expertly know of his appearance. I can be certain that man was not Lyall Fitzgerald because the real Lyall was fished out of the Seine a few days ago! We believe the deaths are connected as both men were strangled; and because the as yet unknown man wore Lyall's belongings."

The ambassador screwed up his eyes tightly, probably to attempt to focus his sight on her a little more. "You're sure?" he asked after a few seconds. Amorette nodded. "Well Cometess I do appreciate such knowledge then. I will look in to the matter. Good day."

His attention back upon his work, Amorette's mouth opened and closed in disbelief a few times. "I'm sorry monsieur, but I do not think that you understand why I am here. I have just prevented you from burying the wrong body in a Scottish nobleman's grave; and of burying the said Scotsman in the grave of a pauper. Do you know how much trouble I have saved you by bringing you this information? And yet you dismiss me so easily? No, I think perhaps I require some information in return!"

Amorette felt Sacha stiffen beside her then, clearly taken aback by Amorette's ferocity. "The Cometess is understandably upset monsieur. She has just had to witness a gruesome sight to identify a body, and someone she cares a great deal for is in the frame for a murder he did not commit. If you have any information regarding the Fitzgerald brothers and who might want to kill Lyall, we would both be grateful to hear it."

The Scotsman shook his head in exasperation and swore lightly in Gaelic as he threw down his quill and sat back in his chair to look as closely at them as his bad eyesight would allow. "Why are two youngsters such as yourselves concerned with all of this eh? I thank you for your information, but if this other friend has been accused of a crime, I cannot help them. You want to know what I think? Look to Henry Fitzgerald for this. His brother and he have been at loggerheads for years. No one wanted Lyall dead more than his own brother. Frankly I don't think there will be peace in Scotland until both Fitzgerald brothers and all of their followers are long dead. They've caused more trouble with their own people than they have for England. If this friend of yours is accused of murdering Lyall, I salute him. I cannot help though. I have nothing to do with the investigation."

Amorette shook her head angrily and was ready to retort but Sacha pulled her to her feet and began to drag her towards the door. "We are sorry to have been an inconvenience to yourself mon seigneur ambassadeur, and hope we have not taken up too much of your time."

Sacha wrenched open the door with his free hand and pushed Amorette through it. Amorette glared at him as he turned and guided her towards the staircase. "What on earth are you about Sacha?"

"Oh come on Madam, that man's not telling us anything! Apart from the fact that he's as blind as a bat, he knows nothing. I don't think it's going to sit well for you to go shouting your mouth off about such matters either. You want to help Athos don't you? So let's do things my way and have a little decorum. If you really believe Henry Fitzgerald to be innocent in all of this too, that means you have two friends to try and help. You can't do so if they put you under house arrest for speaking out of turn. Women should be seen and not heard; remember?"

They had descended the staircase and now stood in the doorway that led back out into the rain dashed street. Sacha's quirked eyebrow only enraged Amorette further. "Sacha you can't seriously think-"

For God's sake Amorette!" Sacha interrupted with a frustrated cry. "I'm with Claude aren't I? If I really believed women should conform then why would I be? You know I don't believe that, but it's what nearly every other man wants. Perhaps if we give them what they want on the face of it, then we may get what we want too!"

Amorette was still angry that Sacha had cut short their meeting, but she could understand that his rational lawyer's mind had no choice but to do so. She nodded meekly as they turned back into the street and made their way to where Léo was meeting them with the horses. Buckingham still had not returned from his meeting with the English ambassador and so they were forced to wait in the rain, with Amorette growing more apprehensive with each moment that passed. She was desperate to leave the streets of Paris and get back out onto the road into the country, and not just because she was anxious to return to Athos in Provins. She had the distinct feeling that their business in the city that day would not go unnoticed and some would abhor the intrusion. Captain Eustis might have been a decent enough man and willing to accept their interference, but there were many who would want to stop them.

It was with relief that Amorette smiled in Buckingham's direction when she glimpsed him at the end of the street. He meandered towards them at a leisurely pace but with a grim expression. He waved away their questioning glances and gently began checking his horse's bridle. He was stalling for time, Amorette realised quickly and so she too tried to aim for casualness as she mounted her horse. As Buckingham helped lift her into her saddle he whispered, "I'm being watched. Two Red Guards at the corner of the street. I'm not sure who sent them, or whether they will follow when we leave."

"We'll shake them off then," whispered Sacha.

Their horses trotted around Paris at a leisurely rate for the best part of an hour before they decided to leave the city, still well aware of eyes watching them as they went. The journey out into the country was an apprehensive one with Buckingham encouraging them to turn back upon themselves every so often to ensure that they weren't being followed. For that simple fact they returned to Provins a lot later than expected and it was already dusk by the time they reached Amorette's home.

Inside there was a contained restless energy that seemed to rattle the glass window panes in their lead frames and blew cold draughts into every corner of the house. Tired and sore from her ride to Paris and back, Amorette struggled to get heat to return to her frozen limbs despite being sat almost in the fireplace. She winced as she slipped off her leather gloves and held her hands up towards the fire, waiting for the brace of heat. Together with Buckingham and Sacha Rouzet she explained all that they had found out in Paris, including the apparent mix up that had occurred with the two bodies.

"Well it's simple then isn't it?" D'artagnan announced to Athos. "Tell them where you were four nights ago and all of this is over."

"It really isn't simple," Athos replied curtly as he and Amorette shot each other a worried glance.

"Why?" queried Porthos. "I know you fought with him and all, but if someone else can supply you with an alibi for the time that Lyall died, then all suspicion must be dropped. Come to think of it, four nights ago was the same night that you fought with him. You might have been the last one to see him alive except for the killer. Did you see or hear anyone else who might have been in the vicinity?"

Athos shook his head grimly. "You don't understand. There is a witness to attest to where I was that night but they cannot come forward. I would not permit them to-"

"Because he was with me!" Amorette finished for him. Athos shot her another warning glance but Amorette batted it away with her hand. "You didn't tell me that night that you'd fought with Lyall. Why didn't you mention it?"

Athos' expression told Amorette he was desperate to roll his eyes. "That doesn't matter now. We are still no better off. You cannot speak out Madam, to preserve your own reputation."

Amorette was the one who really did roll her eyes. "Athos I don't give a damn about my reputation! If it will clear your name I'll tell all of Paris that we were together that night! Besides, it's not so bad now that I have been married. It would have been a lot worse if I was still a Mademoiselle. It might not come to that anyway. I can petition the King and Queen."

"Out of the question," Athos mumbled.

"Do you think it would work Madam? That they'd accept your word?" Treville asked Amorette.

"I think it would," she confirmed. "The Queen might also be able to press for a little discretion."

Aramis was stroking his beard in thought. "Where did you both stay that night?" he asked. "If it was in your rooms in the Louvre Madam then there will have been a musketeer guard on duty on that side of the Palace who saw Athos come and go. They've remained quiet out of respect for you Athos, so I don't doubt they'd come forward to help clear your name. That way the Cometess wouldn't have to speak out."

Athos shook his head. "We were in my rooms that night. There was no one to see us come and go."

"Oh Athos the point is moot," sighed Amorette. "I'll go back to Paris tomorrow and seek an audience with the King."

Buckingham, who had been silent for a time finally spoke. "It still doesn't solve the dilemma of who actually killed Lyall Fitzgerald and the other man."

"Agreed," said Athos.

"Then unless this was some random act of violence by a stranger, perhaps we should consider who may be responsible from what we already know," D'artagnan supplied.

Sacha had already procured ink and parchment and sat poised with his quill, ready to write. "Cometess, you and the Duke knew Lyall well enough it seems. Perhaps we should also consider old enemies who might have come to Paris purely with the intent of killing him."

Amorette and Buckingham shared a glance. Buckingham slowly got up from his chair and began to pace the room. "I do not think we need to travel that far back in time to find the culprit. When I spoke with the English ambassador earlier he was extremely cagey and would supply me with very little information. I think we need to consider that this may not be a murder with personal motive, but rather a business transaction implemented by an English party. My fellow Englishmen have every reason to want Lyall Fitzgerald dead and quite frankly y I'm inclined to agree with their reasoning."

Treville let out a weary sigh. "If it is an English plot, then I think there's little we will be able to do. The man killed was not even French so aside from proving your innocence in the matter Athos, there's not much else we will be allowed to do. Once the second body is identified we will have a clearer path. The Scottish and English ambassadors must take charge if this is indeed nothing to do with France."

"But the next victim might be French," protested Amorette. "We don't know who they might come for next."

Treville nodded solemnly. "Rest assured Cometess, that if and when they strike against France we will have the authority to implement arrests."

"There is another theory we should also consider," Buckingham muttered. When he had captivated everyone's attention he spoke again. "Perhaps this isn't a random attack and is a personal one. Perhaps we do still need to consider that this might be something to do with Henry Fitzgerald."

"I don't think that's in any way plausible," cried Amorette.

Buckingham frowned. "Amorette we cannot overlook the fact that he and Lyall are enemies."

Amorette stood from her chair too and began to pace the room. "No, if Henry wanted to kill someone; especially his own brother he would do it with a shot at point blank range. He's not the type of man to want to watch someone suffer at his own hands."

The room fell silent as everyone was lost in their own thoughts for a time. In Amorette's mind she knew whole heartedly that Henry had not killed his brother. He'd have had to watch the light leave his brother's eyes as he strangled him with his own hands. He wasn't the type of man to inflict such a cruelty. Amorette had known a man just like that since infancy, and looked evil in the face many times in the form of her father. Other people's distress and pain was something that gave him immense pleasure to witness. He liked to toy with his prey. Henry was not that kind of man. If Lyall had been shot and left for dead then perhaps Henry might have been considered, but then again so might a lot of the men of her acquaintance. Even Buckingham might have been in the frame.

Amorette turned sharply towards Buckingham who was leaning one arm against the fireplace lintel and stared at him. He seemed to sense the intenseness of her gaze before he caught sight of it and Amorette watched his expression turn cold. He slowly turned his head in her direction and Amorette could tell that he knew what she was thinking.

"George, don't look at me like that! You surely understand why I have to ask?"

Buckingham turned his nose up at her disdainfully and looked away. "Amorette I really thought you had a better opinion of me! In answer to your unspoken question though, no I did not kill Lyall Fitzgerald!"

George we all hated him back then! You know that's why I have to ask!"

"Then what about you Amorette?" Buckingham turned back to her with a snarl. "Did you kill Lyall in his bed whilst he slept?"

Amorette flinched and turned away. She hadn't realised just how angry her unspoken question would have made him. "We've already established my alibi George. I was with Athos, remember."

She and Buckingham gazed at each other for a few tense seconds before the anger in Buckingham's features seemed to dissipate. "As if you could have actually done such a thing anyway," he muttered darkly. "You were right to ask me in some ways. There were times back then when I'd have happily killed the man but I did not do so for Henry's sake. I thought to save his feelings, but that matters little now."

"What matters," mused Treville, "Is that we have a more than likely to be successful way to clear Athos' name. Let's not disregard the importance of that. Once we get back to Paris and have that matter resolved we can investigate this more thoroughly. I don't suppose you three got a chance to look in upon the rooms that Lyall was renting? Where the other man was killed?"

They all shook their heads. "It seemed the wrong thing to do when we had a tail," said Buckingham.

"Then that shall be our first port of call tomorrow when we return," announced Treville.

Lavender scent assaulted his senses as Athos crept into the near darkness of Amorette's room. The bed was empty though and he found her staring out at the gloomy countryside through the window by the light of a single candle. He approached with caution, sensing that there was some underlying tension between them both.

"Why didn't you tell me that you fought with Lyall that night?" Amorette asked him. "I don't remember you being physically hurt so it can't have been that bad a fight."

Athos sighed heavily as he came to stand beside her. "I didn't think it was important enough to worry you with. Lyall was looking to pick a fight and I refused. I think perhaps he wanted to render me injured enough to be incapable for a day or two. He would more than likely have tried to speak with you again and he probably wanted me out of the way to do so. He sought me out before I came home that night. I was with Porthos whilst he played cards. The little tavern was so far out of the way that I'm surprised that he found me. His intention was to insult you fervently and provoke me. Porthos managed to extricate me from the situation before things got too heated."

"What did he say about me," Amorette asked as she turned to face Athos. She could only make out a few shadows of his face in the lone candlelight and couldn't tell what was going through his mind.

"Do you really think I'm going to repeat that? They were slurs that not even Lyall's own men would have believed. It's not something you should worry over anyway, the man is dead after all."

Amorette moved forward and rested her head against Athos' chest as his arms snaked around her waist. "I'm not sorry he's dead," she mumbled. "He was a horrid person. I'm actually still surprised that Buckingham didn't kill him all those years ago. Henry probably would have been better off with his brother out of the way."

"Do you really think that Henry is innocent in all of this? It's just that I don't know the man well. You and Buckingham do."

Amorette buried her head even further into his chest as he spoke, wanting to dispel the sudden overwhelming feeling to have a serious conversation with Athos about their relationship. "I meant what I said downstairs Athos. Henry is not the type of man who wants to make people suffer just for pleasure. I'm sure he has killed before, but it will have been with a pistol. He doesn't gain pleasure from another's distress." She felt Athos nod his head slightly in understanding and was grateful that he did not question her thoughts at that moment. Images of her father swam before her eyes and Amorette pulled away a little and gave her head a slight shake to try and dispel the disturbing visions. "Athos I think you and I also need to talk about us."

 _ **So, I wonder who really did kill Lyall! Is Amorette right about Henry, or is she giving people too much credit as she usually does? In the next chapter both Henry and Amorette's father will be making a return. I also wonder what this serious conversation will be about?**_


	54. Chapter 54

_**Thank you for the reviews!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Here in her room, Athos was acutely aware of how overpowering the scent of lavender was. Of course she always smelled faintly of it, and her rooms in Paris did so too but without dominance. Here though in the house that she had inherited from her mother; it was starkly intense and omnipresent. It was almost choking him in her now tension filled bed chamber. She had lain back against the pillows on her bed and was watching him with a serene calmness which seemed out of place with the words she had spoken a few moments ago. She wanted to talk seriously and candidly about their relationship and Athos couldn't help worrying. He did not think that there had been anything untoward between them within the last few months; especially as they had spent very little time together.

Perhaps that was it; she couldn't bear being away from him for so long? No; if that were it she would be more visibly upset. Leaning against one of the posters of the bed, Athos forced himself to go no closer. He didn't know quite what came over him when he was in close proximity to her, but the closer he was the less he thought of anything else but her. He glanced down at the floor where her small heeled slippers lay at his feet and almost mentally commissioned them as his barrier. If he went further, he would want to touch her; though looking at the dainty shoes only made him think of stockinged legs that she had only just swung up onto the bed. He huffed a frustrated sigh and forced himself to look back up at her pale features, slightly illuminated by the candlelight flickering on the table beside the bed.

"All of that nonsense earlier..." she began tentatively before hesitating at his frown.

"What?"

"I understand that you want to protect me Athos, but I want to protect you too. You don't have to shield me from absolutely everything in this world you know; least of all the capricious scorn of court. I don't mind speaking up for you. In fact, I want to! If my admittance of our relationship to the powers that be will clear your name in all of this, then I'm more than happy to do it."

Amorette sat forward and pulled her knees up to her chest. He was barely looking at her, let alone moving closer to her. "I don't want it to come to that," he said gently. "I know how important your reputation is to you. It's come to be something that's important to me too."

"Oh, Athos I've told you this already. I don't care about my reputation if it might save your life! As long as those that I care about know who I really am and care for me in return, then I don't really feel the need to worry about what anyone else thinks of me! Paris can call me all the names it wants but I will still have my friends and this house to call home. Besides, we might not have any other choice Athos. With no one else clearly in the frame for Lyall's murder who has clear motive and opportunity I can't think of any other way to solve this quicker. I doubt Treville will have any other ideas either apart from sending you into hiding!"

Athos sighed heavily. "So you're decided then?" he said reluctantly.

"I don't think there really was a decision to make. You would do the same for me in a heartbeat. It's almost instinctual. It doesn't really take much consideration and I won't change my mind Athos. There's not much point in you attempting to put me off."

Amorette turned sharp blue eyes on him then, almost as if challenging Athos to try and argue with her. He seemed to resolutely admit defeat though as he slowly sank down to sit at the end of the bed. "Thank you," he whispered into the gloom.

"There's no need for thanks Athos. How many times have you saved my life? I'm only repaying the favour. Please promise me that you won't feel bad about this? You have no need to. I walked into whatever this is between you and me whole heartedly. I had no illusions of what it might be like. What we have is perfect and I wouldn't change it for the world."

Athos frowned again. "So you wouldn't marry again if the opportunity arose?"

"Athos we aren't talking about marriage. It's not likely that someone will propose to me again anyway because I'm not getting any younger. I suppose my money will still tempt some, but I think we both know what my feelings are on that subject. I love you, and only you for the rest of my life and it's not as if we can marry is it?"

"Is that what you would want eventually? For us to marry? If someone were to come along who could offer you whatever it is that you desire, I would harbour no ill feelings for you if you chose them. You've led a life of trials and unhappiness until now. You deserve to be happy."

Amorette reached forward and hit him in the chest with a little force. "Sometimes you can be an almighty fool you know Athos. We can't marry at all right now and I don't think I want to. Don't take that the wrong way but you _were_ married to my sister. I still don't know if I'm comfortable with that thought. The real reason though is because to marry me you would have to leave your regiment. A soldier of the King's militia cannot marry a noblewoman. That's not something that you want to do and I know that. I don't want you to leave your regiment either. I've loved you for a very long time, but you're a musketeer now and that's a part of you. It's just another part of why I love you. I meant what I said. What we have is perfect. Why change that?"

Athos lifted his arm from his side and hooked it beneath her raised knees. With one swift movement he dragged her across the bed until her legs lay across his lap. "You say that now, but you don't know how you will feel in a year's time or further down the line than that."

Amorette leaned forwards and kissed him softly as she felt his hand gently resting against the side of her neck, his thumb rubbing circles over her cheek. Pulling away just slightly she whispered, "Why are we thinking of the future when we have each other here and now. I've spent my whole life cursing the past and dreading the future. Let's live in the present and forget all else."

Amorette leaned in again but it was Athos' turn to pull away gently. He was gazing down at her quizzically for a few seconds as she began to laugh. "You need to stop talking so much sense. I'm beginning to wonder how on earth I'm the eldest of the two of us. Seriously though? Is what we have now really going to be enough for you?"

"I don't know what I'll want in the future Athos. I don't know what I'll want next week. That doesn't matter though. For a long time I never even considered that we would be on friendly terms again. I'm not secretly harbouring some dream of marriage and a family with you. I'm just grateful that I have you in my life in whatever that form takes. I suppose you might call me a hypocrite because I could easily give up everything that I have, my title and my money and then we could marry and you could still remain a musketeer. There's a problem there though. If I do that my father gets everything! The only way that my money and title will be inherited by my chosen cousins as is noted in my will would be on the event of my death. In any other occurrence, my father gets everything. I can't let that happen after everything that he has done! I can't let him have what my mother worked so tirelessly to ensure he never got his hands on. I'd sooner squander it all away than give it all to him. Unless of course I do something really treacherous and the King seizes all my lands but that does seem a bit farfetched and-"

The rough kiss that Athos pressed upon Amorette forced her to fall back onto the bed. He fell after her, pressing her into the mattress. As Athos fought to pull up her skirts Amorette clutched his shoulders, fearful that he would somehow disappear even as he hovered above her. Within seconds he pushed inside her and she tried to muffle her soft groan. She could tell he needed this, and so she let him take charge and let out his frustration. All of the anger and worry that had been building up inside him over the last few days finally had an outlet and Amorette sought out her own fears and angst and threw them out too as she straddled Athos' waist with her legs and forced him to roll onto his back.

Amorette felt his fingertips bite at her waist beneath her layers of clothing but she had not the effort nor inclination to fight to remove her corset. Athos captured her lips in another kiss that seemed to almost suck out her very soul. She pulled away, a hand pushing against his chest as she fought for air. Athos was oblivious to her struggle though as he rolled again with a growl until she was beneath him. Not able to speak in her breathlessness, Amorette swatted his arm but he appeared not to have understood her meaning. His kisses trailed down her neck as Amorette tried to form words with her lips but the only sound she could make was a rough wheezing sound.

It got his attention though. Athos pulled away sharply to gaze at her in concern and Amorette tugged at the neckline of her dress. "…C…Can't…bre…breathe…God…" Athos sat up abruptly and yanked her towards him. Amorette felt the beginnings of light-headedness even as Athos tugged at the laces of her bodice and then her corset. Amorette felt herself sliding sideways away from him suddenly and he yanked her back into his chest.

"Blasted contraption," she heard him curse as she fell onto the mattress, the support of his body suddenly gone. She was vaguely aware of him cursing as he searched through his things that he had dumped unceremoniously onto the couch at the end of the bed. The clunks and shuffles began to dim in volume as Amorette lost concentration. She tried to focus on the bright colour of the deep purple canopy above her bed but her eyelids were rapidly fluttering, telling her unconsciousness was not far away. Amorette tried to suck in one last desperate breath before slowly everything was lost.

The first thing she was aware of was her own breath, steady and regular as she opened her eyes to the gloom of her bed chamber. The second thing was of someone else's light breaths on her forehead. Athos was sitting with his back against the headrest, with Amorette's head resting like a dead-weight on his shoulder. Still feeling a little woozy, she gingerly raised her head to look at him.

"Let's take the corset off first next time," she mumbled tiredly as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

Athos gently pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I shouldn't have rushed you, I'm sorry."

"Bloody corsets!" It was Amorette's turn to curse.

"I hope that dress wasn't a favourite of yours," Athos said with a slight hint of humour in his voice. "If I'd settled for untying your laces I think your corset might have succeeded in suffocating you. I had to cut you out of it."

Amorette realised that the sounds she had heard must have been Athos searching for his dagger amongst his things. "God I hate being a woman sometimes," she mumbled into his neck.

Athos snorted. "Well Cometess, I for one am glad you are a woman."

Amorette glanced up at him again to see a comical grin staring back at her and let out an exhausted huff of laughter.

The house was already alive with a flurry of activity when Amorette descended the stairs the next morning. Someone had brought horses to the front of the house from the stables and D'artagnan was passing backwards and forwards across the hallway.

"You're not ready to leave already are you?" she called to him as she reached the bottom step.

D'artagnan shook his head as he shouldered a saddlebag and halted to talk to her. "We thought we'd ride towards La Tour César today. Buckingham suggested we might check out that house there where the English were hatching their plot a while back in case there's been any unusual activity there."

"Oh…" Amorette mumbled. "So you're postponing returning to Paris for a day then?"

"Yes we are," announced Athos as he entered the house from outside.

Amorette followed him down the hallway into the deserted Kitchen. "I thought you'd have wanted to clear your name as soon as possible Athos?" she asked. "I thought it would have made more sense to go back to Paris today. If this is about last night then I'm fine! My corset was too tight for our little liaison that's all. You shouldn't be stalling for my sake."

Athos shook his head as he pulled his doublet from the back of a chair and threw it over his shoulder. "I know all of that, but one day won't make much difference anyway. Besides, it's a good idea. We cannot rule out English involvement in all of this."

"What's got you trusting Buckingham so readily? You all hate him!"

Athos sighed heavily and dropped a hand onto Amorette's shoulder. "Amorette you know I'd be the first to admit that there's no love lost between Buckingham and us musketeers, but it seems that when it comes to you somehow he comes good. I'll never truly trust him but I know he'd never do anything to cause you any pain. I think in this regard he's the best help we have right now."

Amorette felt a sense of warmth in her heart then. "I'm glad you can begin to see him the way I do. I know you've had your issues in the past but in a way I am your protection when it comes to Buckingham. He knows very well now that you are all my friends. If he caused problems for you now he knows he would lose me forever. It seems we are all finally growing up a little."

Amorette apprehensively watched them leave from the parlour windows, well aware that they could very easily run into some trouble on the road. She would have to simply sit tight though. Buckingham had gone with them, leaving only Sacha, Tilda and Léo with her for company. Sacha had taken up residence in the small library at the side of the house and was pouring over law books so intensely that Amorette couldn't bear to disturb him apart from to bring him food and wine every so often. He was looking for a loop-hole should they need it, but Amorette didn't see the point in loop-holes. She knew the only real way to assure everyone of Athos' innocence was for her to speak out.

Unable to simply sit peacefully, Amorette resumed her renovations of the house that afternoon and with Léo's help she began changing some of the portraits in favour of ones that they had found in the attic. The last one Amorette intended to swap was the one currently hanging above the fireplace in the dining room. Once Léo had removed the painting from the wall, Amorette realised that she couldn't believe she had let it hang there for so long. She stared ominously at the portrait of herself and her sister Ann for a few moments; unsure of just what new interpretation she had expected to make of it. Then she pulled a dust sheet off the pile on the table and covered it. Amorette actually had a mind to burn the painting, as she knew that from that moment onwards it would never again hang in her home while she still lived. That was in bad taste though, and an insult to her mother's memory. Instead she consigned it to the list of other paintings and items to be placed in the attic.

In its place now hung a much older painting of Amorette's mother. Léo stepped forward to straighten it a little and then returned to Amorette's side. "That's your mother then?" Amorette nodded. "I don't know," he mused. "It looks a lot like you from where I'm standing. Were you two very alike?"

Amorette laughed lightly. "I suppose it does resemble me a little. Perhaps on canvas we do look alike but my mother was very young when this was painted; I think she must have only been about sixteen."

"You've got the same nose," Léo said.

"I think that's where the similarity ended in real life though," Amorette considered. "My mother wasn't very good at standing up for herself or for anything else for that matter." A thought was steadily beginning to grow in Amorette's mind that she couldn't shake, and she turned briskly away from the painting, suddenly not so sure whether she still wanted it to hang there.

Amorette, Léo and Tilda spent another few hours organising paintings in the attic before returning to the lower rooms of the house. With her Amorette brought a trunk of paperwork and began to organise it all l in the dining room after she sent Léo and Tilda out into the fresh air for a while. Tilda had expressed a desire to walk into the nearest village and Amorette had heavily encouraged Léo to accompany her.

It was at the first beginnings of dusk that Amorette finally wandered into the library with the intention of interrupting Sacha if he was still about his work. Spending all day pouring over law books had taken its toll upon him and he appeared tired and weary. He gave Amorette a warm smile though as she approached and dropped his quill.

"I Think I'm done for the day," he announced. "These law books of your mother's aren't offering me much. I think I'll have to wait until I'm back in Paris. I'm not entirely ofay with military law. What's that?"

Amorette glanced down at the leather folder of documents in her arms that Sacha was pointing at and sucked in a breath as if that would give her courage. "It's some things to do with the house and my property. I wondered if you might look into some of it for me?"

Sacha sat back in his chair and shrewdly assessed her. "Is this about your father Madam?"

Amorette hesitated for a moment, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Eventually though, Sacha's raised eyebrows forced her to give him an answer. "Yes; I'll pay you for the work."

"Then of course I'll look into it for you, but I'm not taking your money Madam." Sacha smiled as he held out a hand to take the folder and Amorette let him take it from her. "What is it that you want me to look into exactly?"

"Well…I'm aware that my mother had a very good lawyer who managed to tie things up quite nicely for her, but I just want to be sure that there's nothing else that can be done to ensure that I'm protecting myself soundly. I know you're good at your job Sacha. If there's anything else you think I can do to protect myself from my father I want to draw up the documents for me."

Sacha nodded. "I don't know why you didn't come to me before with this if you were worried. I thought you had everything in hand, that's why I didn't ask."

"I think I do have everything covered Sacha but as I said; you're good at your job. You might see something everyone else has missed. In fact, I trust you will. You've got a keen eye."

Sacha was thumbing through the documents encased in the folder slowly. "Well I'll try my best with regards to the French legal side of things but I'll get the name of Buckingham's English lawyers. We don't want any English loop-holes cropping up in future."

Amorette nodded, the purse of gold coins beginning to burn a hole in her pocket. As he reached to pull it out Sacha heard the chinking of coin against coin and shook his head determinedly. "Amorette I'm not taking your money! You're my friend! Besides, Fabien would never forgive me if I did!"

"Sacha it's your livelihood! I want to pay you! You have a daughter to bring up and I want you to do well," Amorette cried.

"Then pay me back by looking after little Ynes for an evening or two here and there? That's payment enough. I barely see Claude as it is. We could spend some time together alone."

Amorette agreed heartily, reluctant to refuse spending more time with the God-daughter that she grew fonder of daily.

Their party of ten stopped just before the edge of the forest and gazed out towards the city of Paris solemnly through the thinning trees. The four musketeers and their captain already seemed restless, and Amorette wasn't sure how they were going to sit tight all the way outside the city until she came to fetch them again.

"I'll go straight to the King and Queen," she said. "Then once your name is cleared Athos, I'll ride out and let you all know that it's safe for you to return."

"I expect we will all face some form of punishment for abandoning our posts even after the fact," announced Treville.

"You acted as you believed right," called Sacha from up ahead. "Surely the King will understand that?"

"Not much chance of that!" Porthos cried.

"Let's cross that bridge when we come to it," placated Amorette. "Just try to fight the urge to come racing back into the city before I've had the chance to smooth the waters. I know you all want to try and find out who killed Lyall and I do too, but let's make sure you won't be arrested for it first."

They turned and in a flurry of hooves and dust, Amorette, Tilda, Léo, Sacha and Buckingham heading towards the road at the edge of the forest. "So how do you want to play this Cometess?" Buckingham cried.

"How we always play things George!" Amorette replied as she turned in her saddle to look at him. "I need to go back to my rooms and change into my best dress. If I'm going to assert my trustfulness and influential presence I need to look my best. You know how well the King responds to grandeur. I do believe the Queen may help me in this. She knows that Athos and I have feelings for one another but I'm not sure if she knows just how far we've taken our relationship."

"I'll change too then," mused Buckingham with a grin. "We'll cause quite the to-do if we're dressed to match; shall we say red?"

Half an hour later Amorette hurried back out of her rooms in vivid red and raced towards the presence chambers on the other side of the palace. When she arrived outside the doors Sacha and Buckingham were already waiting for her. Sacha was still dressed as he had been earlier, but he'd brushed off some of the road dust and ruffled his hair a little. Buckingham on the other hand looked quite the picture in his red velvet doublet and hat to match.

"It's a shame," began Amorette, "That you didn't find anything at that house yesterday. It would have been good to present something like that to the King to soften the blow of all this a little."

Buckingham shook his head. "There was not a thing to be found and I'm glad of it. I may not agree with the plot that my countrymen conjured up in that house but that doesn't mean that I want to hand them over to the French authorities for some newfound scheme. I'm glad that they are toeing the line for the time being."

The doors of the presence chamber opened and the King's counsel began to filter out, some of the men looking harried and frustrated. Before the doors could swing closed again Buckingham strode forward into the room and Amorette followed, making sure to swing her hips gently as she walked to excaudate the skirts of her fine dress. In her mind's eye, she envisioned the feather plumes of her English chevalier hat bobbing up and down as she walked.

"The Cometess de la Feuillette requests a private audience with the King!" Buckingham announced jovially as he briskly approached the table. The King was gathering documents at the head of the table in readiness to retreat into his own chambers. He spared Buckingham only a short glance before turning on his heel to walk away.

A steward launched himself forwards as Buckingham made to follow the King. "Applications for an audience with the King must be made during the morning sessions held here, which are over for today."

"Oh, my friend I think," cried Buckingham, "That we are important enough within society to bypass all of that nonsense after all! That's for the peasants and farmers!"

"George, don't be arrogant!" Amorette hissed in annoyance. The steward was still trying to push Buckingham back towards the door.

Buckingham ducked around the steward just as the door began to swing closed behind the King. "The information we have is detrimental to the safety of France!" he bellowed in the King's direction. "You may not have cause to believe me your majesty but the Cometess is a true subject of France and you!"

The King stopped just beyond the door in what seemed to be a hesitation of thought. He turned to glimpse the room he had just left through the thinning gap between door and doorframe. In that second Amorette was sure that his eyes met hers for just a second before he called out "Stop."

The sound of his shoes clumping back the way he had come reverberated around the room as another steward opened the door again. His eyes still upon hers, Amorette suddenly realised the King was only returning because of her presence. Buckingham alone would never have garnered a private audience with the King after the trouble he had caused in recent years.

"Cometess!" called the King as he plastered a large smile upon his face. He ignored Buckingham completely and held out his hand graciously to Amorette. She curtsied as was customary and the King handed her into a chair at the table, his eyes roving over her fine attire as Amorette had hoped he would.

She smiled serenely at him as he took the chair beside her and finally glimpsed Sacha. "And who is this Cometess? Another one of your many friends?"

Amorette chuckled lightly as she turned to spare Sacha a warning glance that told him to play along. "Your majesty this is Monsieur Rouzet. He's a lawyer who often frequents the Palais de Justice. He's very good you know, and he was a very good friend of my late husband who I'm sure you remember?"

"Ah yes, that poet and his scribbles all you Mademoiselles were fawning over?" said the King dismissively. "That's all well and good Cometess but what is this all about? Your friend here," he iterated with a flippant glance towards Buckingham, "Insinuated that it's quite the serious matter."

"Yes, I'm afraid it is," confirmed Amorette without dropping the serene smile. "My two friends here are my co-conspirators of sorts." She finished on a girlish chuckle that had the King grinning back at her.

"I suppose you should both sit then," the King announced with a gesture towards the other side of the table.

Just as Buckingham and Sacha took their seats and the steward reluctantly moved to close the doors again, footsteps from the hallway outside could be heard. Within seconds the doors were drawn open again, the steward clearly frustrated that he had so far been unable to carry out his duty of clearing the room. In walked the Queen on the Vicomte de Turenne's arm.

"Well isn't this an intriguing party?" the Queen called from the doorway as she addressed the Vicomte.

"It is indeed, your majesty!" agreed the young Vicomte as he eyed Buckingham with renewed suspicion.

The King stood to greet his wife in what Amorette knew was clearly a show of affection and exuberance that would have been non-existent had the young married couple been entirely alone. The Queen stepped forward to greet her husband accordingly though, with a gentle smile and a quiet greeting that was only a gentle whisper. If she was bothered by Buckingham's presence she didn't show it as she took the chair on the other side of Amorette. The Vicomte offered Amorette a small smile as he too sat around the table and despite Buckingham's frown she was glad that the two latecomers had joined them. Perhaps it would be easier to despoil her own reputation with another like-minded woman present.

"The Cometess here was just about to regal me with a tale that could save France, apparently." Amorette could tell the King disbelieved Buckingham's claim entirely, but was good humouredly entertaining Amorette's presence.

"I don't know about saving it," Amorette replied good naturedly even as she felt the Queen stiffen beside her. "The Duke of Buckingham and I are of the belief that we may have stumbled across something rather peculiar which may be some scheme of either the English or Spanish."

The Vicomte seemed to offer his attention more readily then. "We're all ears then Cometess."

Amorette had no qualms about the young Vicomte as she had long suspected that he headed the King's own intelligence network from within the palace and surrounding area. He was also at the King's side during social events and to all who witnessed the two young men together they would appear the closest of friends. Oddly, the Queen seemed to like the Vicomte just as much as the King did. It wasn't usually the case that they surrounded themselves with the same people, but in the Vicomtes case he seemed to have proved himself loyal and trustworthy to both separate parties.

"Best if we start at the beginning then," exclaimed Amorette. "I'm sure your majesties, that you will have been made aware that the Scottish noble Lyall Fitzgerald was killed a few days ago." They both nodded, a frown gracing the Queen's features as she appeared to understand the direction the conversation was headed in. "I'm here to inform you that Lyall was killed, but that the body in question found in his rooms was not him. The Duke of Buckingham and I have known Lyall since childhood. We confirmed that the body was not his."

"So, he's not dead?" asked the Vicomte. "Well that solves quite a few of our issues with the Scottish nobles. they can stop breathing down our necks about the whole mess!"

"Don't shake of the shackles so quickly," Amorette muttered darkly. "Whilst we were there, we were shown another body which does resemble Lyall."

The King scratched his beard. Buckingham finally ventured to speak, "I wounded him many years ago, with a blow to the neck. The scar was there despite the ligature marks covering it that appear to have had a hand in his death."

"We cannot be sure that was the cause of death though." Sacha spoke for the first time to remind Buckingham of the head wound that had also contributed to Lyall's death and explained the matter as all present listened intently.

"So," mused the Vicomte as he tried to recall all of Sacha's facts. "Both men were killed a few days apart, with Lyall being hit on the head, strangled and then thrown into the Seine. Then this other gentleman who is as yet unknown is found strangled in Lyall's lodgings a few days later-"

"Wearing Lyall's clothes and jewellery; yes!" Amorette finished for him.

The King seemed to be losing the thread of the conversation entirely, for he asked "Cometess I appreciate this news but if you have spoken with the Scottish ambassador then surely he can deal with it himself. How is this our business, or yours for that matter; aside from having a friendship with the victim at one time?"

"Oh, we were never friends," Amorette announced confidently. She knew from now on her countenance really could not slip. She had to appear to be her best and most believable self. "And this concerns myself as the musketeer Athos is accused of Lyall's murder!"

"Athos?" the king queried. "Well that's true and it did come as rather a shock to me but I still don't see why that's your-"

The Queen threw Amorette a sharp questioning glance as the King spoke, trying to ascertain whether it was worth her while interrupting. Amorette stared back stanchly. "Louis perhaps you should let the Cometess finish her explanation?" suggested the Queen sweetly.

He seemed outwardly unaffected by her interruption and nodded his agreement; but Amorette caught the irritated glance he threw the Vicomtes way. "You see," Amorette continued, "Athos is accused of a murder which actually took place four days earlier than first thought. Lyall was thrown into the river after dark, judging by how far down the river he had travelled before he got caught in the netting. The thing is…" Amorette hesitated; knowing that she would have to finish her story now that she had started it. "Athos and I have known each other since I was a young child," she supplied with a serene smile even as her hands shook beneath the table. Buckingham slipped one of his hands into hers and squeezed lightly, letting her know he was at her side. "And….and we were reconciled in Paris after many years apart. Athos was with me the night that Lyall was killed; for the duration of it."

The Vicomte leaned across the table towards her then, a shrewd look upon his face. "What are you saying Cometess?"

"Are you saying that you've taken a musketeer as your lover?" the King asked abruptly.

 _ **So, will Amorette tell the truth and give up her reputation for ruination? I think I remember saying Amorette's father would be returning in one of these chapters and forgot to remove it from my note. Sorry about that, but he will be in the next!**_


	55. Chapter 55

_**Thanks for the follows, favourites and reviews as ever! I've got massive writer's block with these few chapters which is why there was such a delay with this!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

All eyes were upon Amorette in that tense moment, and she tipped her head to the side to accentuate the movement of her hat that was perched on her head at a jaunty angle. What mattered now was not her feelings or her reputation. She was not particularly formidable, but she knew women who were. Countless times she had witnessed her sister manipulate a room with only a few small body movements and no words at all. It was all about confidence in one's self-righteousness and forcing it upon others.

Amorette forced herself to grin wickedly around at her companions around the table and eventually nodded. "Yes, I have!" she announced boldly.

"Well I did not expect that…" mumbled the Vicomte de Turenne as his eyebrows rose swiftly upon his forehead.

"Why should it be expected or unexpected?" questioned Amorette. "It is what it is."

"I think perhaps my dear Vicomte does not imagine how a musketeer and a very fortunate Cometess came to be within the same social circle at all to develop a liaison?" cried the King. "It is a peculiar pairing; even though this is Paris."

Amorette felt her back begin to stiffen. She had expected to be questioned about this particular subject, but hadn't realised just how protective she would become of her relationship with Athos. "Yes this is Paris," she supplied hastily. "Where members of the court do as they please; even disregarding their own wives or husbands. I have no such husband to disrespect. Athos has no wife, what is the issue?"

The Queen tried for a gentle smile. "There is no issue Cometess."

The Queen had known though, of Amorette's feelings for Athos even if she had not known of just how much their relationship had progressed. "Of all the men at court though; Athos the musketeer caught your eye? I had thought Cometess that your standards might have been set a little higher," said the King.

Amorette sighed exasperatedly. Before she could rush to defend herself though, the Queen got there first. "Louis did you not hear what the Cometess said earlier? She and Athos have been acquainted with one another for most of her life. Surely it is more of a love match than some dissolute affair conducted secretly? Is that not right Cometess?"

Amorette felt her cheeks heat as all eyes were upon her again. She had not wanted to have to admit to the secret workings and desires of her heart in such company. What she had felt since she was a child was a wholly private thing that she wished only to share with Athos and those few friends who they equally cared for. There was also the question of believability. A flippant fling with a musketeer wouldn't give someone of her status enough reason to lie and provide him with an alibi. If she were in love with him though, she might be persuaded to lie to clear his name.

Slowly Amorette began to nod, feeling her guard slowly slip away. She would have to hope that her reputation and good name would bolster their good opinion of her enough to make her believable. "You see I've known Athos since I was five years old. I know him so well, and he would not have killed Lyall Fitzgerald under any circumstances; that is, not unless he had to. If someone's life were in danger for example; but he's not the kind of man to act rashly and kill needlessly."

The King nodded suddenly, and Amorette breathed a gentle sigh of relief as she realised that he had bought everything that she had said. "Yes, that is why he is a King's musketeer. He did fight with Lyall Fitzgerald, we know that much. The story we have been told is that the fight escalated."

Amorette shook her head lightly. "I believe Athos may have been defending my honour. He does not know Lyall as well as the Duke of Buckingham and I do, but he does understand the importance of the Fitzgerald name. He would not become entangled in Lyall's games because he appreciates the man's nobility. A Scottish noble is dead in Paris, and someone killed him. There will be Scots who will be severely unhappy with this turn of events. I know the Fitzgerald brothers are disliked by many, but they are from the Campbell clan. Their family is loyal to the English crown and are therefore in favour. They will want an investigation. The English King will more than likely grant them one; that is if he has not ordered Lyall's death himself that is."

"You think there could be English involvement?" the Vicomte asked.

Amorette sighed heavily and lifted a slightly shaky hand to push a few strands of wayward hair behind her ear. "Oh I don't know really. I think England or Spain are more likely than a lowly musketeer! Henry Fitzgerald will involve himself in any scheme that pays well enough to enable him to amass an army against England. That makes him quite dangerous to most people. Perhaps it was a case of mistaken identity. Some Englishman or Spaniard heard the Fitzgerald name and thought it was Henry he was killing."

"That still doesn't explain the other body," mused Buckingham. Someone dressed him to look like Lyall and if we hadn't viewed the body ourselves, he more than likely would have been buried as Lyall Fitzgerald."

"It gave them an alibi though, whoever they are," Amorette said. "They killed Lyall in a city where he is not incredibly well known, stripped him of his clothes and jewellery and dumped him in the Seine. If he hadn't got caught in that netting then he never would have been found. He'd have floated out to sea or far enough away from Paris that no one would ever claim the body. Then they kill again a few days later, and dress the body to appear to be Lyall to the unacquainted eye."

"Forgive me Cometess; but how is that an alibi?" asked the Vicomte.

"By putting someone else in the frame," Amorette confirmed. "All the killer had to do was find someone who was unaccounted for on the night that the fake Lyall Fitzgerald died and hope that they would be accused. Athos was seen fighting with Lyall, so that solved all of their problems. Clearly they don't know Athos very well though. If Athos was in a position where he could readily do Lyall harm and get away with it, he'd be more likely to bring him before you your majesty."

The King sighed heavily. "Alright Cometess, you've convinced me. I do not believe Athos to be guilty of this crime. Yes, it is indeed a slightly bittersweet emotion, to be relieved that one's musketeers are good upstanding men again, but to have the looming dread that England or Spain is meddling in Paris. Five of my musketeers did desert their posts though for what has been three whole days now. There must be some form of punishment."

"Then Punish me!" cried Buckingham suddenly. Amorette turned shocked eyes on her friend as he lifted up his chin in an attempt to assert his authority. The King and Buckingham were not allies or friends by any means, but the King was want to tolerate him because of his money and connections. Amorette did not believe they had ever spoken so directly before though. "I do believe that when Athos and his friends left their posts," he continued, "It was because I might have insinuated that the Cometess here may be in danger. For a time she and I, and the Fitzgerald brothers moved within the same circles. I feared she may also come to harm, not least because she has had contact with both brothers recently. They both no doubt have very valuable information that they only sell for the highest price. Some might think the Cometess is also privy to such knowledge. Athos was thinking only of her when he deserted to ensure that she was safe, and his friends would surely not have let him go alone under such circumstances."

Amorette's jaw had dropped, and try as she might she could not force it upwards again. Had she really heard right? Was the Duke of Buckingham; the sworn enemy of the musketeers and quite a few others in Paris really giving his word for Athos? It appeared everyone else around the table was just as shocked as she was. The silent Sacha alone seemed unaffected, and fixed Amorette with a stare so piercing that she immediately understood his thoughts. _This is all for me._ Buckingham had embellished the lie only for her benefit. He owed Athos no loyalty, but he wished for her to be happy and Athos was her happiness.

Amorette was given little time to dwell upon those thoughts. "Since you are so forthcoming in your favour of the musketeer Duc," said the King, "Perhaps you will be so good as to prove your worth by passing us any English intelligence you might have! You will know of any of your own countrymen traveling in France; and don't tell me otherwise. I know you are a shrewd man who lets nothing slip past him. I want names."

An hour later they descended into the staircase of the entrance hall hurriedly, with Amorette keen to reach the stables and fetch her horse. Sacha made his goodbyes and left, having agreed to meet them later at the lodgings Lyall had rented before his death. Amorette watched his retreating figure as he cut a path across the Jardin des Tuileries against the brace of a strong wind. She wasn't sure why, but she was beginning to regret involving Sacha in all of this. His knowledge of law and his general helpfulness was always appreciated, but Amorette had seen the way the Vicomte de Turenne had watched the lawyer as he had left the presence chambers only moments before.

Before long Sacha would be recruited to act for the King's secret agents and Amorette wasn't sure how that sat with her when Sacha had a daughter to bring up. Slowly she turned to acknowledge Buckingham, who stood alongside her.

"Shouldn't we get going George? I'd like to let Athos and his friends return to the city before it falls dark."

Oddly, Buckingham shook his head almost as if in pain. "No Madam, I'm afraid you must go alone to bring them the news of their new found innocence in the King's eyes. I've business to attend to in the city. I gave the King the names of Englishmen in Paris because I had no choice and it does not sit well to give up my countrymen so freely when they might yet be innocent in all of this. There are a small few who will be wholly uninvolved; I'm sure of it. I might warn them to expect a raid or interrogation in the coming days."

"George shouldn't you leave it?" Amorette questioned. "If you're seen interfering before the King can reach these men…"

Buckingham sighed heavily. "They are beyond the King's detection. He and his spies know what English names to look out for. All the same I owe them a warning at the very least. They may also be able to help me out on a certain matter. I think they have information I need."

With that he was gone, and Amorette was left wallowing in her own thoughts. She had thought Buckingham would have wanted to ride out with her and watch the contest upon Athos' face as the musketeer found out that his sworn enemy had just supported him with his own influential word. The old Buckingham would have relished in seeing such a war played out across a man's features, but it appeared that side of him lay dormant. At least Athos would not be left squirming in his saddle. On the other hand, perhaps Buckingham was afraid that Athos might appear smug. Amorette he would never do so, but Buckingham didn't know Athos as well as Amorette did. Perhaps Buckingham thought that his new found loyalty and sense of responsibility towards her would provide Athos with ammunition to belittle the Duke.

It mattered not though; because Buckingham was no longer with her. Amorette turned on her heel and set out on a path across the courtyard towards the stables, but she could not have gone ten steps when a voice behind her paused her tracks. The Vicomte de Turenne rounded the corner at speed, evidently under the impression that he'd have to run to catch up with her.

"Cometess! I'm glad I caught you," cried the Vicomte as he skidded to a halt where Amorette waited for him apprehensively.

"I take it there is some matter you wish to discuss Mon Seigneur," began Amorette, "But I do not believe there is any more information I can pass on to you. I know only what I spoke of upstairs. Perhaps the duke of Buckingham may be of more use to you than I."

The Vicomte let out a roar of laughter. "Somehow Madam I doubt it, but I admire your faith in the man. You trust him, but then you have trusted many a man who was in fact not as truthful as he first seemed."

Amorette threw him a glare. She should have turned and walked away in defiance of his attempt at ill humour, but instead she found herself intrigued. "What is this really about Mon Seigneur? Something tells me that although you don't trust Buckingham, you don't believe him to be as much of a threat as first appears. There are other pressing matters are there not?"

The Vicomte threw a wary glance around the deserted courtyard before turning back to Amorette with a secretive grin. "Cometess I'm aware that you were the Queen's agent in Madrid. I had hoped you might have other information that might help us; information that you did not wish to disclose openly?"

Amorette fought the temptation to roll her eyes. "I knew you would be aware of such a thing Monsieur Vicomte as you yourself are the King's agent in Paris are you not?"

The Vicomte looked a little surprised, but not disappointed. "You are quite observant," he said with a chuckle.

Amorette shook her head knowingly. "One doesn't have to be Mon Seigneur. You are the King's closest confidant. He does not require you just for advice on matters of state, but rather his own private affairs and dealings. That makes you rather trustworthy in the King's eyes. I'm surprised that no one else has guessed your real business in Paris if I'm honest.

"In terms of news," Amorette continued, "I have none. I was the Queen's agent in Madrid but that was almost two years ago, now. I have not been in the employ of the Queen for some time and am therefore not privy to certain strands of information. I know you have gained the trust of the Queen as well as the King Monsieur, so perhaps you should ask her yourself?"

The Vicomte noticed the attempt at a slight Amorette made in her declining address. Amorette turned to walk away, desperate to place some distance between herself and the Vicomte before she was plunged unwillingly into another game of secrets and lies.

The Vicomte though, seemed reluctant to let her go. "Madam perhaps there is some knowledge that you are unaware you already possess?" he asked as he walked briskly to keep up with Amorette. "Your connection with the Fitzgerald brothers alone tells me that's likely. The King may be foolish enough to miss certain intrigues but I am not! You readily admitted that Athos fought with Lyall, but was he simply defending your honour or was there something more to it? From what you told us upstairs, Athos does not sound like a man to be bated by someone like Lyall purely because he slighted your good name!"

"Amorette stopped walking abruptly and turned to fix the Vicomte with a suspicious glare. "What exactly is it that you are insinuating Monsieur Vicomte? You may be the King's agent and closest confidant behind closed doors, but out here in the open you are no better than me. We are equal in age, title and in fact I do believe my fortune vastly outranks yours! You have no authority to interrogate me unless sanctioned to do so by the King or Queen. I know you wish to elude to some sort of romantic relationship between myself and Lyall but that's laughable!"

The Vicomte quirked an eyebrow. "You must understand Cometess that your apparent disdain for the man could be misinterpreted as the scorn of a wounded lover! As a woman, you will be aware of certain tactics the female species often use to throw others off the scent. Do you recall the phrase _'The lady doth protest too much, methinks…"_ Shakespeare's Hamlet; if I recall correctly? Your rank and fortune cannot hide the sorry fact of your sex. Whilst I myself am not of the belief that a woman is a lesser being than a man, most other men in Paris do think that. If you were to have this same conversation with any other man, you might be scolded for speaking so brazenly."

Amorette let out a peal of girlish laughter before she could stop herself. "Ah yes, because women; much like children should be seen and not heard. Do you really think I'd stand a chance with a loyal King's musketeer if I'd been Lyall Fitzgerald's lover? God no! I think Athos would have labelled me a fool and never thought upon me again if that were the case!"

The Vicomte de Turenne seemed impossible to placate. "What about the brother then; Henry Fitzgerald? I know you still class yourself as a friend to him!"

Amorette grinned despite herself. "Perhaps that might be a more plausible theory Monsieur Vicomte. I could readily see why you would come to that conclusion. It's true that I was close friends with Henry for a long time, and would hate to see him come to harm even now, but I think now that you really do mistake me! I have no want or need to prove myself to you but it appears I must do so. My private thoughts and matters of the heart are not yours to toy with, so I implore you to keep this between us, but for me as a young girl there was only ever Athos. The Fitzgerald's and the Duke of Buckingham all knew that! No one could have been in any doubt of it. I was a love sick teenager trailing after a man I was never supposed to have.

"I admire your persistence Monsieur, but please do not do me the discredit of thinking I bedded every male friend I ever did have! This may be Paris but I still have my dignity and self-respect! People may take my reputation and trample all over it with their worn boots but I will not ever feel ashamed of my love for Athos again! I will not be made to feel as if I am some kind of harlot by the likes of you. I know you have lain with many women of the court and I make no bones about it!"

The Vicomte seemed to be stumbling over his reply a little as his mouth opened and closed hurriedly. "Forgive me Madam…I was not…. I had no intention of sullying your reputation. I simply had to ask those questions. You know yourself of the uneasy mood lying over Paris right now. I had to be sure you had no romantic entanglements with the Fitzgerald brothers. I do think you know more than you are giving away though."

Amorette shook her head exasperatedly and decided to give in to his demands. "Athos and I met with Lyall a month or so before his death. He only wanted to talk nonsense though and I harboured no actual belief of his words. He believed that the Valois wanted to take back the throne and that Spain would reinstate the line if the house of Bourbon came to harm. It was all fictitious nonsense though! How on earth could Lyall know all of that if it was true! That man is a trickster. If he genuinely did believe it all himself, then someone clearly told him all of that to keep him off the scent of Spain's real scheme!"

The Vicomte nodded slowly, his eyes seeming to darken as he drifted deep into thought. "Even so, I appreciate you telling me that. I can look into it. What of Henry, has he said anything similar recently?"

"I Haven't seen or heard from him in months," supplied Amorette. "If I'm honest; had it been Henry who had come to me with that conspiracy theory I'd have been more inclined to believe it. Henry doesn't double cross people. Lyall hid his true intentions and tried to play people off against each other. Henry on the other hand is very open in regards to his battle for a free Scotland. He's no liar. Oddly, despite his status as a rebel and a terrorist, I'd still trust his word. If you ever do come to meet him, don't immediately question what he says. He may just be laying the truth before you in expectation of you not believing him."

"You thought that Lyall was more of a threat then?" the Vicomte asked as they set of walking at a leisurely pace around the perimeter of the courtyard.

"I did in some ways," Amorette replied. "But when it comes down to who the Scottish people might follow, I do believe it would always be Henry. Lyall played too many games and the people would have doubted his honesty and loyalty too much. He has a reputation as a turncoat. No one follows turncoats if they have the option of another leader who lays all his cards on the table. I suppose in that sense Henry is more of a threat. He isn't as dangerous as Lyall though. Henry has a heart. He wants a free Scotland for the right reasons, not because it would increase his fortune. It will likely get him killed just as well though."

"The lawyer fellow?" asked the Vicomte abruptly in a swift change of subject. "Do you trust him?"

"Sacha?" Amorette mused lightly. "I do trust him, yes. He has a daughter to bring up though, and he is not married to the mother. It's all rather precarious. Not that I think there's much chance of it, but if the mother's husband ever cast out the daughter and required his wife by his side again, Sacha would be the child's sole guardian. I hope for the child's sake you will leave him be."

Amorette shot a quick glance at the Vicomte, sure that he would not heed her warnings about Sacha. "He should not come to any harm in my employ Cometess. I could do with a legal man in my camp who is not already tainted with the temptations and illusions of Paris court, that's all. As long as he's good at his job, I'll see him handsomely paid too. Surely that benefits the daughter, no?"

Amorette sighed heavily. "He is good at his job. He'll soon be snowed under with all the work coming his way. I myself am employing him to tie up a few lose ends of my own legal matters regarding my father."

"And how does your father consider the relationship between you and the musketeer Madam?"

Amorette was unaffected by the seemingly impertinent question now that her character or that of her friends was not being attacked. "I hardly know. It's not news to him though; he's known about my feelings for Athos longer even than I think I was myself."

"I still don't fully understand you know," stated the Vicomte subtly as they reached the stable gateway, "Why of all the men in Paris you chose a musketeer? I had thought that husband of yours, Monsieur Desrosiers was much more suited to your personality. You are a beautiful woman; any man in court would be lucky to have you upon his arm!"

Amorette felt herself blushing despite her insides bristling at the slight to Athos. She glanced around quickly before turning back to the handsome young Vicomte who stood before her. Amorette was assured now of his being no older than her at all from standing so close to him. It was not the type of face she'd have fallen for, as he had too much of a self-important air like the Duke of Buckingham but he was clearly a man loyal to his King, and that did him credit.

"I suppose everyone would say they do not understand it, but it's understandable as Athos is not the type of man to give too much away. I hope you will use discretion with the knowledge I bestow upon you Mon Seigneur, but Athos was once nobility. He was a country Comte though, and his fortune would not have rivalled mine or yours but he was well respected and revered, as he still is today."

"So, that's how you met?" mused the Vicomte. "I had wondered. Are you saying he gave up his noble status to become a musketeer?"

Amorette shook her head softly as she felt a melancholy mood embrace her as it always seemed want to do when she thought of her sister Ann nowadays. "He gave it up because of a woman originally. He found his way to Paris and I suppose the militia seemed the only course of action that would keep his mind occupied and his feelings at bay. He's not proud or conceited in any way. In fact, I think he'd rather forget that he ever lived a life before the one he had here in Paris."

I understand now," he said with a swift nod. "He's had a life full of turmoil; as have you Madam even though you choose not to speak of it. Neither of you would do anything to jeopardise what you have now I suppose. You can rest assured that neither of you will be under suspicion in this regard. Our attentions will be focused elsewhere."

Amorette nodded her thanks, feeling that the conversation had come to a natural end. The Vicomte smiled and turned to leave, but not before saying "It's a shame though, that you are spoken for in regards to matters of the heart Madam. I really meant it; any man in Paris would be lucky to have you on his arm, even me!"

Amorette felt herself blush profusely as the young Vicomte tipped the brim of his hat to her with a gentle smile and retracted his steps across the courtyard towards the palace again.

It felt strange to see Athos realise that he was in effect indebted to the Duke of Buckingham, but Amorette felt sure that both men were too assured in their determination to hate one another to ever mention what had come to pass. Athos had reacted with unaffected and irrelevant civility when Amorette had told him, and he had made no mention of it as they all returned to the inner city again with the purpose of searching Lyall's rooms. The search wielded nothing at all though, and Amorette spent a sorry few days without Athos' company as he and his friends looked into Lyall's death more closely.

Amorette became more sure with each day that passed that they would find nothing, having been unable to even identify the other body who had been posed to appear as Lyall. The musketeers were enraged by the Scottish ambassador's lack of effort but Amorette knew he wanted nothing to do with the sorry business; being glad simply to have one scheming Fitzgerald brother gone from the world. The English ambassador was not much help either and Amorette was even more disheartened when Buckingham failed to visit her. She was becoming increasingly suspicious that he had stumbled across some information in recent days due to his lack of correspondence. Even Athos, who had barely a moment to spare would send her the odd note reassuring her that there was yet no news, but from Buckingham she heard nothing.

Amorette called upon him at his lodgings after a week of no word, but he was not home. She had felt strangely vulnerable on her first outing in the city since the business of searching Lyall's rooms, and she didn't know whether that had something to do with Buckingham's little lie about Lyall's killer wanting to harm her too. Amorette knew it was foolish to feel such a way when they did not even know who the killer was and likely never would, but she could not shake the feeling at all. She had planned to cross the river and visit a book shop, and perhaps even stray towards the garrison on the off-chance that she might get catch a glimpse of Athos or one of his friends but her seemingly worried and uneasy feet lead Amorette back in the direction of the Louvre. Almost as soon as she returned to the main thoroughfare of the Rue St Honoré though the hairs on the back of her neck began to stand on end. A strange prickling behind Amorette's ears only added to her suspicion that she was being followed.

Had the Vicomte de Turenne lied about her no longer being under suspicion? Surely if he had men following her she would have noticed them within the palace over the course of the last week? Something told Amorette thought that there was something more sinister lurking behind her though. She kept her walk as slow and meandering as it had been all morning and forced herself not to speed up in anticipation of reaching a safe place. There was a Red Guard garrison nearby, where Amorette knew that Captain Eustis was stationed, and the palace halls were lined with musketeers and Red Guards alike, but something was pulling her in the direction of the river. She could cross it under the pretext of going in search of the new book she had thought of fetching earlier, and make a detour right into the musketeer garrison. To Amorette that was the only plausible answer when she felt so wholly unguarded; and so, at the corner of the Rue St Martin Amorette made a sharp left turn and headed towards the river bank. Not once had she chanced to look behind her for fear of startling whoever it was that followed her into action, but as she crossed the street and under the pretext of her checking for horse drawn carts or carriages Amorette threw a glance to her right and froze in fear.

For just a split second she thought she had glimpsed the stern face of her father in the crowded street, but as soon as her eyes were upon him, he was gone. She sucked in a frightened breath as people barged into her, some barking at her to get out of the way as she stood precariously in the middle of the street. Despite all that had passed, Amorette knew that for her own self there was perhaps no thought so frightening as that of her father following her through the streets. Her hands grew clammy with sweat as she searched the area where he had disappeared and tried to unsuccessfully convince herself she had been mistaken. Another voice in her mind told her that he had just slipped down an alleyway and waited for her to move on so he could resume his trail of her. Or could he have even doubled back to the adjacent street in the hopes of coming up directly behind her? That sickening thought shook Amorette from her stationary spot and she moved off at a much quicker pace, wishing that the street was less congested so that she could break out into a flat out run.

Why though, was her father following her? Surely if he had designs of speaking with her or worse he could have dragged her from the street at any point before then. What need could he have to simply watch her? It would not sit well with him to do that, because he was an impatient man; that Amorette knew. With a feeling of dread beginning to knot her insides she moved on briskly, forcing herself not to glance back again despite her overwhelming desire to know where her father was in proximity to her.

 _ **So, Lord Barclay is back! But what does he want with Amorette this time? Find out in the next chapter! There may be another secret from long ago that's about to be revealed. I can feel Athos rolling his eyes in anticipation of another secret of Amorette's!**_


	56. Chapter 56

_**I think my anger at Lord Barclay came out in my typing because I typed this and the next chapter up in no time! That's managed me to get back to being two chapters ahead though, which I haven't been in ages!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Amorette's fist shakily curled around the but of the pistol in its brace at her waist. The crowds were beginning to thin out as she reached the end of the street and she picked up her pace for a few seconds before Sacha Rouzet emerged through a throng of people crossing the street. He caught Amorette's eye and smiled at her as he turned in her direction. Amorette's eye was drawn to little Ines in her father's arms who held out her chubby little arms in greeting as the pair drew closer to her. Amorette breathed a sigh of relief and tried to give the child a weary smile.

It appeared her relief was visible because when Sacha finally reached her he was frowning. "What's wrong?"

"I thought I saw my father," Amorette said quietly as she glanced around her again. She felt a little more reassured with Sacha by her side, but there was no one else on the street that she recognised.

She felt Sacha gently touch her elbow. "You think you saw him; or you know you saw him? Two very different things Madam!"

Amorette almost sensed the mind of a rational lawyer taking over as he stared worriedly at her. Amorette nodded to show her understanding of his question. "I did see him. I'm sure of it. It was only for a second but-"

"Where?" asked Sacha as he too began to glance around him. Little Ines was now gazing at Amorette reproachfully with her arms outstretched, as if upset that Amorette hadn't greeted her. Amorette reached out and took the little girl into her arms where Ines proceeded to grab a loose tendril of her hair to tug.

"Further up the Rue St Martin, but I think he darted down a side-street when he realised I'd seen him," said Amorette. She shifted the child's weight in her arms a little as Sacha continued to observe the street.

Amorette started a little, pulling the child closer into her arms as Sacha suddenly leapt out into the street and gave a wave. It had only been to catch the attention of Captain Eustis though who was walking in their direction. Veering away from a group of Red Guards who were wandering the street, Eustis approached them quickly.

"Monsieur Rouzet, Cometess," he nodded to them both. "Is something amiss?"

Sacha wasted no time in informing Eustis that Amorette's father was close by, and within minutes the streets surrounding the Rue St Martin were swarming with Red Guards searching for him. Amorette stood silently and clutched little Ines to her, trying to listen in to the conversation that Sacha and Eustis were having a few yards away.

"He's a traitor," said Eustis softly, "And a terrorist. If we find Lord Barclay he goes straight to the Bastille or the Châtelet."

Sacha held up his hands in protest. "Captain I appreciate that his capture would be a very good thing for you and your regiment, but you must appreciate that there are some questions my friends will have for the man that Barclay might be able to answer."

Eustice sighed heavily. "I appreciate that Monsieur, and once Lord Barclay has contacted his own lawyer, we will permit them to visit. I'm afraid you and any musketeers will not be allowed to speak with him though. No English nobility either; if we arrest the man then he's ours to interrogate.

Sacha sighed heavily and threw a tired glance Amorette's way. "Look I know how important this is to you," continued Eustis, "What with Lord Barclay being your friend's father but that is the way things must work. The Red Guards have a reputation for negligence and chaos but that's something myself and Captain Neville before he left were trying to rectify. We have to do this by the book. Unless he's the culprit of some crime that the musketeers are investigating, they will have nothing to do with him."

"For heaven's sake man I'm not trying to break him out of prison before he's even put there!" Sacha growled angrily. "All I mean is that there are certain loose ties that need knotting and only the musketeers and the Cometess can do so. I don't want the man roaming the streets any more than you do! He's a monster who has treated his daughter abominably and I don't even know the whole story."

Eustis shook his head reluctantly. "Let's cross that bridge when we come to it. We don't even know if we will find him. Those prisoners from the Bastille breakout managed to lie low for weeks and we still haven't found all of them. If we do find him, I'll consider letting you have a word with him. As a lawyer I think I can get you in, but no musketeers I'm afraid. They shall have to ask their questions through you."

Sensing that he was staring his best offer in the face, Sacha nodded. "Well I'd appreciate however little you could do for me Eustis!" He turned on his heel towards Amorette and she wasn't sure if they had intended her to hear any of their conversation or not, so she stayed silent on the matter as Sacha walked her back to the Louvre.

Another two days passed in an odd flurry of sleet and snow that blighted Paris at random. The cold snap was unexpected and forced Amorette not unwillingly to remain indoors. Part of her was relieved to have a good reason to stay off the streets after glimpsing her father. Athos still sent her notes by way of other musketeers coming to and from their duties in the Louvre, but she still had yet to see him again. Buckingham was still silent and Amorette had no idea if he was even still in Paris.

She had thought to write to him at some of his other homes nearby and see if that garnered any fruits, and was considering just what to include in her letter one morning as she walked the length of the long gallery with Claude when the quiet and deserted hallway suddenly became a hive of activity. Buckingham burst through the far doors with some of his English and French friends, two greyhounds at his heels. He made for the two women with such determination that Amorette knew immediately that something was amiss.

"Madam, I bring news of your father!" he called as he walked. "He's in Paris and-"

The rest of his sentence was drowned out by the clattering and banging of another set of doors at the other end of the hallway. D'artagnan appeared there and immediately caught her eye. Even at a distance, she could tell he also had news of some sort for her.

"Cometess!" D'artagnan called to her. "I've just received news that Henry Fitzgerald has been apprehended! He's at the garrison and he's spitting feathers!"

Buckingham had reached her side and his gaze bore down upon her as she looked to each man in turn, not sure which piece of news required her attention more. D'artagnan simply shrugged and held onto the door he had just thrown open, waiting for her to make a decision.

"Is he here at the Palace?" Amorette asked Buckingham sharply.

He shook his head in answer. "He was seen this morning, but he would not dare come here. He's a wanted man. Every military man in Paris would arrest him on sight."

Amorette nodded as she tried to weigh things up in her mind. Of course, she already knew that her father was in Paris, and therefore it was not news to her at all. Besides, what on earth could she do about that situation when she did not know exactly where he was. Henry on the other hand was still a friend to her, and may be in need of help of some form. What help Amorette could give him she did not know, for she was resolved not to try and eradicate any charges brought against him for crimes he had committed knowingly. He was still a friend though, and she thought that he far more deserved her attention than a father who little deserved the title. To spend hours and days agonising over her father had been living in the past, and Amorette suddenly chastised herself for doing so. He was not a part of the new life that she had now. Henry might not be either, but he had always treated her a far sight better than her father ever had. Someone would have to relay the news of his brother's death to him if he did not already know, and that was what swayed the balance.

"I'm sorry George," Amorette whispered as she pulled away from him, and from Claude and ran to meet the door that D'artagnan held open for her.

They sped through the Louvre and out into the streets with barely any time to look where they were going. Any questions that Amorette asked of D'artagnan went unanswered and instead he repeatedly promised to tell all once they reached the garrison. They reached the Rue du Bac in minutes and Amorette stopped at the corner of the street to try and catch her breath. D'artagnan stopped a little way ahead to wait for her and Amorette glimpsed a red uniform out of the corner of her eye. As they drew closer to the gates of the garrison Amorette's suspicions were confirmed. Just across the street from the gates stood Captain Eustis and most of his regiment, waiting. Amorette wondered if they had come to try prise Henry from the grasp of the musketeers before they could bring the news to the king that he had been apprehended. Amorette rolled her eyes at the swift reminder of constant competition between the two companies of militia and followed D'artagnan through the archway and into the yard. As they reached the staircase Amorette distinctly heard a very Scottish shout of garbled words.

As they reached Treville's office and emerged through the doorway, Amorette caught sight of Henry in the corner of the room, hands balled into fists and spit flying from his mouth. A strange and painful looking red welt around his neck told Amorette he had more than likely been on the wrong side of an argument. Porthos stood not far from Henry, his arms outstretched as if ready to restrain the Scotsman should he try anything.

"Henry what on earth is going-" Amorette began, but as she turned to observe what drew the Scotsman's eye, she froze. Sitting on a chair by Treville's desk was her father, sporting a black eye and a bloody gash that ran the length of one cheek from just below his eye to his jawline. Despite his illusion of calmness as he sat with his legs crossed and his arms at his sides, Amorette knew the look in his one opened eye. He was furious, so full of rage that Amorette was surprised he had managed to maintain such a calm demeanour.

"We found them not far from where Lyall took lodgings in that inn on the Rue de la Madeleine," Athos supplied gently into her ear for only her to hear. "We thought they might tear each other limb from limb by the way they fought. If Porthos had not been there to stop them, I do think one of them might have ended the other."

Amorette nodded resolutely even as she felt his hand give her hand nestled in her skirts a little squeeze.

Henry was clearly seething with anger, and Amorette couldn't recall ever seeing him so before. She wanted to calm her friend, but she didn't really know how. She thought perhaps a soothing voice and a reminder that he at least had one friend in the room might be enough. She cautiously began to approach him, taking each step gingerly whilst trying to keep her father within her sight. She had made the mistake many times as a child; to let him stray from her field of vision whilst in the same room. Her nerves would not allow her to do it now after so many bad experiences.

She reached Henry's side and gently lifted a hand to place it onto his forearm. As soon as her skin touched his well-made but well-worn coat he pivoted angrily, an arm held up as if ready to strike. He didn't though and Amorette thought she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes despite the red mist that still clouded them.

"Henry?" she tried tentatively, hearing her nerves in her softly spoken word. "Henry, tell me what's going on."

He was so full of hatred and angst that Amorette had no idea if her presence would calm him or make him worse.

"I should have bloody known!" he roared as he shook Amorette's hand off. Amorette took a swift step backwards and felt a presence that was more than likely Athos move closely behind her. "Schemes and lies and games and he's the biggest trickster of them all! I should have known!"

Amorette shook her head, not knowing where his ramblings were going. "Is this about Lyall, Henry?" she tried again as he swung his hateful gaze towards her.

Amorette felt a hand swiftly plant itself on her waist from behind, ready to pull her out of the way should the need call for it. "Everything's about Lyall Isn't it? ISN'T IT?" The Scots accent became more pronounced with each word spoken, so that what was usually a light Scottish lilt became a thick distortion of almost unintelligible words. Amorette could discern only a few, but a glance back at the musketeers told her that they were incapable of making out any of his speech at all. Amorette knew she could only do so having known Henry such a long time.

"Did you kill him Henry?" The question had tumbled from Amorette's lips before she had realised, and her hand flew up to cover her mouth as if that action could somehow undo her speech.

"Did I kill my own brother?" There was a hint of malice in his words now and Amorette hated the fact it was directed at her. "Do you even ken me at all lass?"

Amorette shook her head reproachfully. "Henry you must understand that I have to ask. I don't want to think you killed your brother. You do not like to watch people's pain and suffering as he does," she whispered with a glance towards her father, and saw what was steadily becoming an expectant smile. She tore her eyes away swiftly, scared she would give in to the temptation to slap the smile from her father's face. "I believe if you were to kill someone, especially your own brother it would be done quickly and cleanly. A musket shot straight to the forehead, and that would only be as a last resort. You'd kill if you had to, but you do not like it. You see though, that's the Henry I knew ten years ago! My dilemma is that this anger inside you, this hate is not someone I know. This is not my friend. You must understand why I question the matter when before me is a complete stranger."

Her words seemed to have done the trick. Henry's shoulder slumped and he turned to the room at large, his arms spread wide as if welcoming them all to see him wholly as he was before them. "No lass, I did'nae kill my brother," he began as he lifted a strong arm to point a long finger in her father's direction. "But he did!"

The room felt omni-silent, as if the gentle silence from those around them before had been some sort of muffled sound in comparison. Now there was nothing except her father's antagonising chuckle.

"Porthos," Athos countered with a nod in Lord Barclay's direction. Porthos was stood in the middle of the room, thus the only musketeer standing between Amorette and her father.

"We've all heard the unique ravings of the mad Scotsman," drawled Lord Barclay suddenly. "I think we know his word cannot be trusted."

"WHO TOLD YOU THAT YOU COULD SPEAK?" Amorette snarled in her father's direction before turning her attention back to Henry.

Porthos, who had stepped forward a little, decidedly retreated with his arms held up in surrender. "I think she can handle this well enough on her own," he said to Athos as an afterthought.

"Henry-" Amorette started before she was interrupted by Treville.

"Cometess, if the Laird Fitzgerald has a theory, perhaps we should let him air it."

Treville's cold tone told Amorette in no uncertain terms that he did not put much faith in Henry's word, but everyone else fell silent as Henry's last anger seemed to dissipate.

"Buckingham wrote to me about a week ago, did you know?" Henry asked Amorette. She shook her head but made no verbal reply. "Told me Lyall had been killed. I've been staying at an old farm in the country. I'm sure you'll understand my reluctance to tell you its location given present company, but when I got Buckingham's letter I came straight to Paris. It seems that despite our differences, Buckingham understood that I know my brother better than anyone and that I might stand a chance of sniffing out his killer. I reached his lodgings this morning, and who should I find lying in wait but him!"

Henry threw a disdainful glance in Lord Barclay's direction and just as he opened his mouth to continue, the door opened again and Sacha Rouzet stepped into the room. He nodded in greeting to the musketeers and Amorette, before retreating to stand against the wall beside Aramis. Amorette felt a gentle touch upon the bare skin of her neck.

"D'artagnan thought it might be wise to have a lawyer present," Athos mumbled.

Amorette nodded stiffly even though she was not quite sure how Sacha could help in all of this.

"Your father killed my brother, and he killed the other man too. He was lying in wait to try and kill me also. I managed to drag him out onto the street with his hands clamped around my neck. He tried to strangle me with his belt, but I grabbed the buckle and slashed his face with it; and smacked him a fair few times for good measure." Amorette quickly appraised her old friend, and saw that despite the ligature marks around his neck he seemed relatively unscathed. He had put up a good fight.

"Why would he kill Lyall though?" Amorette asked quickly before the conversation could move on.

Henry gaped at her exasperatedly. "Lass he's English! I'm a Scottish rebel! He wants me dead even more than he does you right now!"

"Oh if only that were possible," Lord Barclay chuckled good naturedly.

"Come on Amorette, this has got his name written all over it!"

Amorette's eyesight was again assaulted by the red welts on Henry's neck and in a few seconds the whole scenario swam before her eyes as if she had read the story in a book and was recalling it.

"The ligature marks…" she mumbled as she turned to look at her father. "You cannot deny, that is your method. You like it. You get off on it," she added in a sickened undertone.

Her father chuckled again. "You'd know all about that, daughter mine!"

Henry surged forwards and at the same time Amorette was torn backwards by unseen hands. Porthos reached Henry in time, but Amorette shook off Athos' hands and stepped into the middle of the room again.

"Henry he's not worth it!" she cried. "He wants a reaction! He wants one of you to blow him to bits with your musket and pay the price for it! It's all a game to him! Isn't that what you told me all those years ago? It's all a game and even if we play it, we cannot let him have control of it. Without the control he is nothing!"

Henry turned again, a snarl still waiting to escape his lips. He did not address Amorette, but Athos. "Give me your damn musket and let me shoot the bastard! I don't care what happens afterwards. Shoot me, hang me, lock me in prison to rot! It'll happen anyway so let me take him down with me! Let's face it, I'd be doing her a favour!"

When Athos stepped forward suddenly, Amorette realised that it was not only Henry who was suppressing a multitude of anger. Athos seemed to have a much better handle of it though. He didn't speak until he reached Henry's side and clamped a hand down upon the Scotsman's shoulder.

"You must understand," began Athos softly, "That he must be held accountable for all that he has done. Not just your brother's death if he did kill him, but the actions of a lifetime. There is information which he holds that is detrimental to the survival of France. Trust me, if I could see a way to watch him leave this world and still right all of the wrongs he has committed, then I'd hand you my musket right now. Hell, I'd shoot him myself but that is not the right way."

Amorette felt the gravity of Athos' words as both he and Henry turned back towards them all. "Henry do you know who the other man was?" Amorette asked as the sudden thought occurred to her.

Henry nodded to her. "Colin MacDonald, Lyall's closest friend. He was a distant cousin of ours. I've heard on the grapevine that he's missing."

"And so the pieces fall into place," announced D'artagnan. He threw Amorette a shrewd look as if willing her to realise something. When she continued to look back at him vacantly he continued. "Lord Barclay reaches Paris and hunts out Lyall Fitzgerald, kills him and throws him in the Seine after retrieving any identifiable belongings. He's heard about Lyall's argument with Athos and-"

"Decides to kill two birds with one stone," Amorette finished for him.

D'artagnan nodded eagerly. "He knew that Lyall's friends wouldn't be far away. They'd come looking for him in a day or two so he lay in wait. Sure enough this Colin MacDonald comes to Lyall's lodgings, so Lord Barclay kills him too. He dresses him in Lyall's clothing and leaves him to be found. Thus to the outside world, Lyall Fitzgerald died two or three days later than he really did." 

"You knew I'd gone into the country," Amorette addressed her father.

"And he knew I'd be alone," confirmed Athos. "The question is, why me?"

Amorette almost laughed out loud. "Oh come on Athos, it was to hurt me. You are implicated and arrested and that results in my pain and upset. Two birds with one stone. The question is…" Amorette drew away from the group and for the first time she stepped towards her father. He watched her as she advanced towards him, a serene and benign expression painted on his face. "Who sent you?" Amorette asked abruptly as she stood over him. "Ruthborough? Cambridge? Or was it the King of England himself?" Amorette observed the slightest twitch of her father's hand, as if he wanted to slap her. "Whoever it was, if it wasn't the English King it was someone close to him. Kill two Scottish rebels and somehow exact your own sick revenge in the same bargain; of course this was you, wasn't it?"

Her father sneered at her where he sat. "Where is your damn loyalty! I'm your father. I'm a part of you! You are half English! Don't forget that!"

"I'M FRENCH!" Amorette roared with such gusto that everyone in the room except her father jumped. She leaned even further over the man that she had detested for all of her adult life and grabbed the two arms of the chair either side of him. "How many times do I have to tell you! I'm French! Cut me open and my heart would be shaped like a Fleur de Lis! I've got no loyalty to you!"

"What of your English friends eh? Do you desert them so readily?"

"MY FRIENDS DON'T CARE WHETHER I'M ENGLISH OR FRENCH OR BLOODY GREEK! real people with real human feelings don't care where I come from or what language I speak when it comes down to it! If I've been their friend then they are mine in return. Don't you see that when you are a good and honest person, those things begin not to matter. They know I'm only staunchly French because you are English and I abhor everything about you and all that you are! Don't you get it. That's humanity. You aren't human!"

"So you'd let the Scots tear England apart?" he gestured in Henry's direction. You'd let them murder and rape your English cousins, would you? Because they are your friends?"

Henry shoved Amorette roughly out of the way as he grabbed her father by the lapels of his doublet. "The only murderer here is you old man! We want nothing to do with your English cousins! All we want is a free Scotland. Not everyone thinks the same way as you do! We don't always need to use brute force to get what we want! What Kind of man beats his own daughter black and blue for money he would never see eh?"

Amorette grabbed Henry's large forearm and tried to tug him away. "Henry he isn't worth it." She felt a bubble of worry rise within her as she was swiftly reminded that Athos still did not know why she had never attended his wedding. She was suddenly fearful of where the argument would lead.

"HE BEAT YOU TO WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR LIFE AMORETTE! I WAS THERE TO PICK UP THE PIECES HE LEFT-"

"Henry stop!"

I HAD TO CART YOU OFF HOME AND HIDE YOU AWAY LIKE SOME PRECIOUS DOLL BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T BEAR ANYONE KNOWING WHAT REALLY HAPPENED THAT DAY! YOU EXPECTED ME TO DO NOTHING BACK THEN AND I UPHELD YOUR WISHES; BUT NOW YOU EXPECT ME TO SIT IDLY BY AFTER HE HAS KILLED MY BROTHER FOR CHRIST'S SAKE?"

Amorette opened her mouth to retort but no sound came out. What she had been about to say was something that had been on the outskirts of her conscience since she was fifteen years old, but she had never had any definable proof. That was why she stopped short, her mouth opening and closing like a fish as she tried to stop the words from slipping out. As soon as she let them reverberate around her mind, all doubt flew away and she realised that it was true. _He killed my mother._ She felt sick to her stomach as she glanced towards Athos again, his face unreadable in the suddenly stifling room.

"She's so pleased that your brother is dead that she cannot even find the words, look!" chuckled her father.

Henry let go of his doublet and Lord Barclay slumped back into the seat for a split second before Amorette mimicked Henry in grabbing his lapels. "I do not rejoice in anyone's death," she whispered. "I wouldn't even rejoice in yours."

"I bet you would if he actually croaked it," Henry remarked. "Why lass? Why do you still shy away from it all?" Henry pleaded. "It's not like it ruined you is it? You're the strongest person I know! I'll never forget the carnage I saw in your eyes that day though. That's what this man does and-"

"Henry Please don't-"

"What day is this?" Athos asked abruptly. When Amorette opened her mouth to speak he silenced her with just a look. "Fitzgerald?"

Henry sighed heavily, clearly frustrated and anxious that he was to be the one to relay the tale. "You'll recall very well I'm sure the day you told the Mademoiselle Amorette that you were set upon marrying her sister?" Athos nodded, a slight trepidation in his eyes. "They argued that day, and he beat her so badly that when I came to see her the next day, she was barely recognisable. She didn't stay away from your wedding because she was upset, musketeer. She didn't stay away because you were marrying her sister and her heart was torn in two by it. She was terrified of you seeing her like that; of what he had done to her."

Amorette had seen people laughing manically before, but it was nothing to the rare sound and expression she found within her father in that moment. The sound of his laughter was sickening; the sound that Amorette could only associate with pure evil. She felt as if her very bones rejected the sound as she began to feel overwhelmingly sick. There was nothing she could do now but try not to let her gaze fall upon the cobalt blue eyes that held such pity and confusion all at once.

"Despite everything you still know where your loyalties lie don't you daughter mine? You know you cannot take me on and hope to win when I have the backing of all of England."

Amorette shook her head as she too let go of his doublet and turned away from him. "It's nothing like that at all. I just don't think you have the right to die quickly and have all of your sins absolved. To walk freely from this world and not pay penance for all of the wrongs that you have committed. You deserve to rot in some rancid cell for years and years and think over every single ounce of torment you caused in the world."

There was silence for a few seconds as Amorette retraced her steps across the room towards where the musketeers all stood in a line, poised to rush forward should anything untoward happen. She tried avoid Athos' eye as she knew he would be trying to catch hers after what Henry had just divulged. It was out in the open now, and she knew she would face a barrage of questions before the day was over.

"What do we do now?" she asked Treville solemnly.

"He'll be taken before the King," mused the musketeer captain wearily. "The English ambassador will need to be informed of his arrest if we are doing things properly. Monsieur Rouzet," he called as he addressed Sacha for the first time, "Perhaps you might gather some intelligence of your own? Find out which English lawyers are currently in Paris? It would be good to know what we may be up against."

Sacha nodded in agreement. "That I can do captain. Cometess, if you have need of my services, you know where to find me."

Sacha tipped his hat to them all and left. Amorette couldn't quite put her finger on why, but she felt as if there was a sudden shift in the atmosphere of the room now that Sacha was no longer there; as if it was somehow more primal, more heady with testosterone. From every man present there seemed to be an undercurrent of anger bubbling towards the surface, just waiting to burst forth. All, except Lord Percy Barclay.

He was smirking when Amorette glanced towards him again, as if he was so certain of something that everyone else in the room was as of yet unaware of. Try as she might, once Amorette had looked, she couldn't look away. There was something in the course gaze of the icy blue eyes so similar in colour to her own that Amorette found oddly repulsive and hypnotising all at the same time.

Perhaps it was that intrinsic lure she had felt all those years ago as a young teenager even after he had treated her so awfully. She hated him more than she thought it was possible for anyone to hate, but he was still her father. He had shaped her far more than anyone could ever understand and he knew it. He knew how lost she had felt for so long and how to use it against her. Setting that one unique stare upon her brought her back to being fourteen years old, cowering in the corner with her arms held protectively around her head as she waited for the blows to rain down. He knew he could remind her oh so swiftly of just how weak she had been back then; how incapable she had been of extricating herself from his sick games and schemes.

 _ **Amorette's father is just horrible! How will Amorette deal with this turn of events? Will she let her father intimidate her as he always does or will she put up a fight? Personally I'd have liked Athos to just smack him or shoot him and have done with it, but that's not in Athos' very brooding nature is it?**_


	57. Chapter 57

_**Thanks for the reviews, favs and follows! I had to stop myself from uploading this sooner as I was bursting to get it out there!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Amorette felt a gentle touch upon her arm as someone tried to turn her away from her father's penetrative gaze but she couldn't shake it off. She tried to focus on Henry's Scots accent, such an unusual sound to hear in Paris amongst the French who all but refused to speak any other language. Even Buckingham hardly ever spoke in English whilst he was there. Henry never shirked his Scots heritage for anyone though. He didn't care if the French turned their noses up at his foreign dialect because it was now more than ever one of the only things he had left to rightly claim as his own.

"I want to know he'll pay the ultimate price for my brother," the Scotsman said. Amorette noticed that although he spoke in English he had the good grace to slow down his speech so that the musketeers who were not entirely fluent in the language could gauge some understanding of what he said. "I'm sick and tired of him lording it over everyone else and name dropping his way out of everything."

Amorette finally turned herself away from her father's sneering face and towards the group. Athos kept his hand upon her arm, his touch not as reassuring as Amorette would have hoped it to be. His hand shook a little in rage despite his calm stance.

Treville was shaking his head. "I cannot be sure how the King will see the matter. Once the English ambassador has intervened there will be nothing much more that we can do. If it were a French citizen he had killed, then he would be a French prisoner out and out but with a Scottish rebel I think the King will more than likely want this taken out of his hands as quickly as possible. He will want England to deal with it themselves."

"So, he goes back to England to be welcomed home with open arms?" growled Henry.

"He would still face a charge of murder," confirmed Athos. "In an English court, though. I doubt the English king would be able to keep overlooking his discretions for too much longer when all is considered. He's already a traitor and inciting a war with Scotland won't go down well with many of the English aristocracy. England is almost tearing itself apart thanks to Monsieur Cromwell so the last thing England needs is a Scottish army of barbarians braced to attack. The odds won't swing in his favour no matter who he has to speak up for him."

From the other end of the room Lord Barclay laughed lightly. "I won't have need to name drop at all. You forget one very important component in all of this Messieurs. I won't be taken to your King or handed back over to the English in shackles." Amorette felt his eyes burning into the back of her head and she turned to glance at him over shoulder. "My daughter will aid me in any predicament that prohibits my immediate release."

"No I will not!" Amorette scoffed.

But Lord Barclay was already beginning to stand. He buttoned his open doublet and gave it a tug to straighten it. "I don't believe that for a second. You're my daughter. You owe me that much at least. I raised you and you still carry my good name with you despite your disgust of it. You won't desert me now. You can't because you don't have it within you to treat me that way."

Amorette dragged her arm out of Athos' grip as her own anger began to rise. Without hesitation, she approached her father who towered over her. She knew he would attempt to intimidate her, but she needed to prove both to him and herself that she was no longer susceptible to his manipulation.

"What on earth makes you think I'd help you in any way. I said I wouldn't rejoice in your death, but that doesn't mean I'd therefore rejoice in your freedom. After everything you have done do you really think I want you to be free to kill someone else, to hurt anyone else?" cried Amorette as she reached him and gazed up into his frowning face. "You don't get to make the orders here!"

"It won't be the end you know! I'll keep coming back," he replied as his hands balled into fists at his sides. "We will all keep coming back because there will always be good for nothing sympathisers like you who want to placate everyone instead of letting the ensuing fight take place." His gaze shifted slightly to look upon Henry then. "You'd best be looking over your shoulder Fitzgerald because we want you dead. We won't stop until you are in the same state as your bastard brother!"

"YOU DON'T GET TO THREATEN US ANY MORE!" Henry roared. "Aren't you tired old man; of the game and the fight? Haven't you hurt her enough! You took everything from her that you could grasp with your slimy hands-"

"Henry!" Amorette interrupted, suddenly fearful of where the argument was heading. "Henry stop!"

Lord Barclay smirked, clearly enjoying Amorette's discomfort. "It's all her fault you know," he sneered. "If only she'd given in all those years ago, and handed over the money that she doesn't even now use, she could have saved herself all of that torment!"

"Henry…" Amorette warned as she stole a glance towards Athos who remained aligned with his friends. She feared how the next few moments would pass, with Henry desperate to tear her father limb from limb and Athos who wasn't likely to stop him doing so; in fact, he seemed more inclined to join in the foray.

Athos seemed to sense her worry and moved forward a few steps. "Your daughter's financial matters are nothing of consequence to us Mon Seigneur," said Athos slowly and carefully. "Or you for that matter. Let us return to the topic of Lyall Fitzgerald. An admittance of your guilt would imply that you repent such an action and would offer loved ones the comfort of knowing the truth. To provide us with that now may benefit you in the long run."

Amorette understood Athos' careful attempt at bringing the conversation under control and away from her. He could perhaps see the anguish upon her face as she relieved the memories of all those years ago in her head and wished to spare her any further distress. It was at that moment that Amorette realised her cheeks were wet with tears she did not know she had cried.

Lord Barclay sighed heavily under the pretence of straightening his clothing again and looked around them expectantly as if he believed that one of them would come to their senses and tell him that he was free to go. "Very well. You want me to tell you that I killed Lyall, and I did. It was easy to gain access to his shoddily locked lodgings and creep to his bedside. Oddly in his sleep, he looked so tired and worn out. He slept well though. He did not realise that I was there; hovering above him until I slipped the belt around his neck and pulled it taught. There really is nothing that compares quite so much to that ultimate feeling of power and control you find when you hold someone's life entirely in your hands. In the balance of life or death it's hard to govern just where to draw the line; to decide how much of their suffering is enough to sustain you for a while. But when you witness the life beginning to leave their eyes and all of the fight and hope, that's when you reach the point of no return. Once someone has reached that stage of near death, they will never be the same again if revived. They become somehow unhinged and off balance; with the overwhelming desire to fight back even more than they ever did before."

"You're disgusting," Amorette managed to utter through clenched teeth Just before Henry launched himself forward again with his fist raised and Amorette felt a tight vice-like grip place itself around her thin wrist. Lord Barclay dragged Amorette in-front of him as a shield but Henry managed react quickly. Amorette's father was far taller than her, and she ducked a little as Henry's fist collided with the side of her father's face. Her wrist slipped from his fingers but she didn't move away. With Henry breathing heavily by her side and her father sneering below them despite what would surely become a second black eye, all of Amorette's anger seemed to spill over. Before she knew what she had done, she had lifted her hand and slapped him hard across the face.

Lord Barclay was just as surprised as she was. Amorette's hands flew to cover her mouth in shock at what she had just done. She did not regret the anger and upset that had caused her to hit him because he; her own father had just used her as a human shield. No, it was the unexpected that she feared more than anything. She took stumbling steps backwards as she saw fury flit across his features and knew she had done something he had never thought her capable off; she had fought back.

Athos stepped swiftly in front of Amorette, his hands reaching behind him to grip her elbows tightly to keep her in place at his back. Her father made to get out of the chair again, but Henry pushed him back down into the seat with a hand upon his shoulder and muttered "Don't even think about it. Why don't I hold him down lass and you can let loose?" Henry barked with a hollow laugh that held none of the good humour and brightness that it had done in his younger days.

Henry's attempt at albeit an ill kind of humour fell on deaf ears as Amorette felt tears prick her eyes again. There was a part of her that was ashamed that she had descended to her father's level. The only person she had ever raised her hand to before now had been her sister Ann, and she had deserved It, so had her father. It was not an action that she wanted to repeat though. Keeping composure was the right way to sort things and she knew that. She had spent her whole life watching how her father lost his temper flippantly and resorted to violence. Talking with fists never solved any issues that she could recall at that moment. She had hit her father hard but it had probably stung her small hand more than it had his face; and he was still before her now with the same sneer in place. He would continue to gloat and scheme no matter who hit him.

Porthos moved forward to place himself between Henry and Lord Barclay but he was not quick enough. Caught off guard as he tried to make yet another callous joke, Lord Barclay suddenly grabbed Henry's hand still upon his shoulder and yanked. Henry let out a yelp as he tried to shake the Englishman off and Lord Barclay took the chance to throw a punch at the younger man.

Porthos reached them both just as Henry feel to the floor, winded and clutching the side of his head. With D'artagnan's help Porthos managed to restrain Lord Barclay as Amorette moved towards Henry. Her father was kicking out with his feet, one of them making contact with Henry's head as he did so. The scene was quickly descending into chaos and Amorette knew why. Her father might be older than the other men present, but he was no less strong. As tall and broad as Porthos, he cut an imposing figure wherever he went.

Henry was still conscious, covering his head with his hands against any more kick attacks when Amorette reached him and tried to help him sit up. D'artagnan gave an abrupt yelp as Lord Barclay elbowed him sharply in the abdomen, knocking him backwards into the wall. For just a split second a hand grabbed Amorette's arm so tightly and tugged that it felt almost as if her skin burned at the sharp movement. She let out a whimper of pain just as Aramis came up behind her and lifted her out of the way.

On the other side of the room she still felt the touch of her father's hand upon her wrist. A red welt showed clearly where he had gripped her arm with what had likely been enough force to snap it in two. Her father had finally stilled, owing to the fact that Athos held the barrel of his musket against his head. The hand holding the musket did not shake any more but was steady, a steely determination there within the cobalt blue eyes.

"Touch her again and I will shoot you. I need no more inclination than that."

Treville had moved forward to aid Porthos in forcing her father back into a chair as Lord Barclay spared Athos an appraising glance. "Now that I do believe," he muttered darkly.

D'artagnan appeared again, one hand carrying a set of shackles which he used to restrain her father upon the chair. When her father sneered at her again, Amorette felt herself sinking back into Aramis' hold as he pulled her back to lean against the wall. Athos grabbed a handful of Henry's doublet and pulled him off the floor and onto his feet. Henry stumbled across the room and Amorette shook herself back into action. She helped him into a chair and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket to press against the wound on his head. Amorette drowned out the conversation from the other side of the room and tried to ignore the sense of foreboding that was beginning to settle tightly around her chest.

Henry gave her a mournful look that spoke a thousand words and Amorette simply nodded, not able to find the words to describe how she felt in that moment. Henry hissed in pain as Amorette put a little more pressure on his wound.

"Sorry," She mumbled.

"What have you got to be sorry about?" he asked her incredulously. "Personally, I think you need to stop apologising for the actions of others Amorette." The light Scottish lilt was back, the ferocious rage she had seen before now gone. That reassured her a little to have him back to the old Henry, even though she knew it would not last. Sure enough, a few seconds later he was pulling himself to his feet. "That man deserves to be strung up for the way he's treated you. Yet here we all stand, deeply affected by his presence and worried about what he'll do next."

Athos turned towards Henry sharply then, appraising him for a few seconds before he asked, "Did your brother ever claim French citizenship?"

"What? Why?" Henry asked, a bewildered frown upon his face.

"If he did," Athos continued with jerk of his musket towards Lord Barclay, " _He_ stays in France to face the punishment of a French court."

Henry nodded his understanding and appreciation. "He owns land, but I'm not sure about citizenship."

There was that manic laugh again, and even though it came from all the way across the room Amorette felt as if it rebounded throughout her skull. "How many times must I tell you, I won't be standing in any court."

"I won't help you," Amorette replied solemnly.

Henry scowled. "Haven't you asked enough of her old man? It's all you've ever done. I hope to God that if I ever have the good grace to have a child I treat them far better than you ever treated her!"

"You won't live that long Fitzgerald. Neither will she!" Lord Barclay began. "Don't any of you get it, they are coming! Spain is barking at the heels of France and before long you will be crashing against English shores seeking refuge. Our doors will be closed to all of you!"

"Even your own daughter?" probed Athos.

"She's no daughter of mine. She's a traitor to her English heritage and even to her own mother!"

Something within Amorette snapped and she hurled herself across the room towards him, her nails barely scratching his face as Athos threw his arms around her waist to try and hold her back.

"You don't get to speak of her!" The scream tore from Amorette's throat as she struggled in Athos' hold. In any other circumstance, it would have been fruitless to try to break free as the musketeer was far taller and stronger than she was, but growing within her in the last few moments had been such a definable rage that even Porthos would have had to wrestle to keep her in place. "You have no right; you who caused her so much pain and fear! You're the bloody traitor! You'd sell all you know to Spain for your thirty pieces of silver and wouldn't look back upon England once if you thought for a second you'd get to keep it! How dare you talk with such contempt of those who you have wronged and defiled!"

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Treville bellowed. "Both of them out now!" He gestured to Porthos and Athos even as Amorette still fought against Athos' tight restraint.

Lord Barclay mocked outrage at such an order. "Oh, but you're sending away all the fun Captain!"

"Perhaps that's what the doctor ordered for you Mon Seigneur Barclay!" called Aramis calmly. "From the sounds of it you can pick a fight with anyone and anything. You're better to be left alone."

"Is that what you want of your father?" Lord Barclay pleaded as he turned sorrowful eyes upon his daughter. "You know what it's like to feel alone even in a crowded room don't you? Would you really want that for me; to be alone in the world and with nothing? You always claim to be so much better than me. If you really are so good and pure then surely there is some remorse within you? You're weak you see. You see the good in everyone and wish all well. You couldn't find it within yourself to wish me alone, to wish me dead if you tried. You just don't have it in you."

Athos finally succeeded in forcing Amorette back towards the doorway as she suddenly let all of the fight within her vanish until she was almost limp in his arms. He was more worried though about her new-found compliance than he had been of her apparent desire to tear her own father's face off with her bare hands. He stopped near Henry Fitzgerald who had retaken his seat in the chair at some point, clutching the bloody handkerchief to his head. Pulling away from Amorette slightly, he spared her only the smallest of assessing glances and it was enough to determine that something within her had changed. Her eyes had held that glazed look, as if her mind were in some far-off place that had captured her wholly and completely.

Henry Fitzgerald let an exasperated sigh escape his lips as he shook his head warily. He turned sorrowful eyes upon Amorette then, as if realising for the first time that although it was he who grieved for the death of a loved one; Amorette was threatened far more by those still alive. She was human too, with feelings and emotions just as important as his own and she still thought that he was a friend to her. He couldn't possibly reward that kind of loyalty by killing her own father, no matter how many wrongs he had committed.

"If I stay here I'm like to kill the man," he announced thickly. Gingerly he managed to stand, taking Amorette's handkerchief with him to hold against his head as he sloped out of the room.

All of the musketeers breathed somewhat of a relieved sigh as Henry left, fully understanding that the Scotsman was only antagonising the situation more. Athos still held onto Amorette tightly, but declined to remove her form the room as he had been ordered to do so only a few seconds before. Something in this newly resigned demeanour forced him to admit that he didn't want to leave her side whilst she was so troubled and so he defied his captain's orders.

Treville seemed assuaged by Amorette's controlled emotions and said no more on the matter, hoping that Athos could keep her temper in check if it rose again. He turned on Lord Barclay instead, still not aware of how he would handle the situation even as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Mon Seigneur I cannot hope to understand what it is that motivates you. I know you are in the employ of the English crown or those extremely close to it and understand it's not likely that you shall endeavour to tell us any more than you already have for fear of giving too much away. In present company, there is not much more discussion to be had I'm afraid. Once you are handed over to the King and his advisors you will more than likely face an onslaught of interrogation before you are turned over to the English embassy.

Treville threw a wary glance around the room, his eyes lingering just a second too long upon Amorette before he continued in a hurried whisper, "Do not think the fine halls of the Louvre and your pride will defend you from whatever methods of torture the King feels necessary to extract information from you. You will not return to England in one piece Mon Seigneur. In fact, I'm willing to bet you'll be a broken man by the time you return to your home shores. Do the right thing now with regards to your daughter and tell us what you can, and you may salvage some minute inkling of respect from her. Have her believe whether rightly or wrongly, that you thought to make the world she has a future in a better place for her, and she will perhaps begin to have a little faith in humanity again. Be the father that she deserves for once in her life."

Treville stood back and was mildly surprised to find that the Englishman seemed to be considering his careful words. Lord Barclay turned deliberating eyes upon Amorette then, and her eyes couldn't have been quicker to break eye contact as she shrank even further into Athos' tight hold. No, he couldn't do what the musketeer captain had said. He could not placate the feelings of a daughter so alien and foreign to him who had perhaps for most if not all of her life thwarted his chance to raise a real fortune, thus becoming more of a prized companion to the King of England.

No, he wanted her to understand that he had no heart at all; wanted her to feel the misery and abandonment of a father too proud to think her worth anything at all to him. Wasn't that why he had liked having her alive? He had faced many opportunities to kill her after all, and somehow most occurrences had ended with him hurting her enough that she would remember his power and his greed. He needed to have her alive to continue playing games with her though. He had spoken before of the rare sense of worldliness he found when he ended another's life, but to do so to his own daughter would be a disappointment. It was her above all who he enjoyed torturing, and to kill her would be to cut off his life support.

Amorette was looking at anyone but him in those sparse moments where he contemplated his next move, but he couldn't really take any other road than the one he had already walked upon and he knew it.

"Do you really want to have a hand in my death?" he asked Amorette coldly. "Do you want to have that on your mind forever? On your conscience?"

"Can't be half as bad as your conscience!" D'artagnan snapped.

Lord Barclay chuckled lightly again. "Come now Amorette. Help me in this and we need never have cross words again. I'll be indebted to you if you will do this for me. I swear I won't darken your doorstep again and if you ever have need of my help, you shall have it. You know I'm not a man to offer such things freely and without any conviction, so if you will agree to these terms I will uphold them. Have your friends help me and I will walk off into the north and if you so wish it you shall never see or hear from me again."

Amorette still hadn't looked at him. She had found a stray thread upon the sleeve of Athos' doublet and tried to give it as much attention as she could whilst her father spoke, but she could not help wondering if he really believed all that he said. She glanced up fearfully to look into his eyes and yet again she found herself transfixed by the overwhelming power and fright he had held over her for so long. Wasn't she different though from the young girl who had forlornly fallen into all his traps? Didn't she know far more about her own self and her own strength now?

"I won't help you," she stated matter of factly. "My friends won't help you."

"And thus, you dig your own grave," shrugged Lord Barclay rather simply.

"I didn't say I wouldn't negotiate though," Amorette added.

"No!" Athos announced none to quietly as he gave her a small shake. It was on the tip of Amorette's tongue to remind Athos that she stood right next to him and that she could hear him perfectly well without his need to shout, but the torn look in his eyes told her not to. "You don't bargain with the likes of him Amorette. You already know this. I don't care anymore how weak or sorry for yourself you feel. Perhaps it will take a rude awakening and so be it. You're having nothing more to do with him."

Amorette shook her head gently at him as she began to push him away. "I don't feel sorry for myself," she mumbled with the tiniest hint of anger present.

Athos dimly thought perhaps it hadn't been the best choice of words but wasn't about to give up the fight that easily. He made a swift grab for Amorette's upper arms just as she made to turn away from him and held her in place. In her eyes in the few seconds that followed Athos was sure he had never seen so much ferocity.

"Are you going to manhandle me too? Is that the way to try and get through to me," Amorette cried as she tried to shake free of his arms. Athos suddenly let his grip fall slack as he realised she really did want to be away from him in that moment. He knew he had not held her strongly enough to hurt or cause a mark, but the action itself had clouded her already muddy vision. He let her slide away from him and shared a worried glance with Aramis before turning his attention back to her.

"Where exactly are you going with this Cometess?" Treville asked tersely as he too watched her with undisclosed worry in his eyes.

"Where all roads lead with a man like my father," Amorette snorted without even glancing at Treville. Her eyes remained fixed upon her Lord Barclay. "To the battle of wits. I meant what I said. My friends will not help you, but if you are prepared to have me ask you a question answered simply and truthfully by yourself then I am prepared to offer the condition that they will not stop you from leaving this garrison."

"Is she having a laugh?" Porthos cried to Athos, who looked wholly and completely confused by the latest turn of events.

"I cannot allow this!" Treville barked loudly.

Amorette ignored them all, her eyes suddenly glistening with challenge as she watched her father.

"I won't trade tales with you Amorette," said Lord Barclay. "What kind of a deal is that; when you entirely hold the upper hand in terms of questions. What you are in effect asking me to do is admit my guilt to some other crime you have concocted."

Did he know what she intended to ask him?

"Right now, it's the only deal upon the table old man!" Amorette growled defiantly. "You have only this one chance to secure your own freedom."

Her father's face remained impassive, but the lack of a sneer told Amorette that secretly he understood what she was offering him, and wouldn't be able to resist the chance to use her again.

"Very well," he muttered broodily with a flourish of his still shackled hands.

Amorette reached for the chair Henry had vacated and began to drag it into the room towards where her father sat. She stopped a few feet from him and righted the chair before slowly sitting upon it.

"Cometess I will have no more games. This is over and done with, you can ask as many questions of him as you like, but I cannot allow him to be released onto the streets again!"

Yet again Amorette ignored Treville, fixing her father with a stare so determined and sure that she thought she saw Lord Barclay's own gaze falter for the slightest of seconds. He didn't like this assured self confidence in her who barked orders and played games too.

"I will ask you a question and you will respond truthfully with either a yes or a no," Amorette said gently as she tried to drown out the mutterings and disapproval of the musketeers all around her. "If you do so to my satisfaction, then you shall leave this garrison unhindered. Once you reach the streets outside though, you are entirely on your own. I'd like you to think back to eleven years ago, if you would."

Her father scoffed. "Well that wasn't a happy time for you, was it? I do believe I have many memories of that time that are more like the stuff of nightmares for you!"

Amorette shook away the jibe, instead trying to school her tone so that the question was not hurried or quiet and disjointed in her anxiousness. "Eleven years ago," she continued, "Did you place a gold locket around my mother's neck…and… and strangle her to death with it?"

 _ **Dun dun dun! If you remember wayyyyy back, everyone believed that story about Amorette's mother leaving a necklace on before bed didn't they! Did her father do it though? Or is Amorette going a bit mad?**_


	58. Chapter 58

_**Awfully sorry for the delay with this one, but it didn't want to be written! Or at least that's what it feels like.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

It seemed as if the world had frozen. The musketeer's protests had died instantly, and no one spoke or moved as Amorette gazed at her father expectantly. She willed her hands not to shake with anger as he continued to stare ahead blankly. He did not utter a single word as the minutes passed and it was all the confirmation that Amorette needed. She turned away from him and away from the rest of the room to walk towards the window. She sucked in deep agonising breaths as she gazed out at the haphazard rooftops of the faubourg Saint-Germain and the grey incorrigible sky that threatened to soak them all through to the skin with a deluge of heavy rain before the day was over.

From her vantage point Amorette could not see the main thoroughfare of the Rue du Bac, only the surrounding building roofs. She hoped though that not too much about the street had changed since she had entered the walls of the garrison that afternoon, otherwise the plan she was quickly concocting within her mind would not work at all.

When she finally found the courage to speak again she did so still facing the window. Unable to find the power within her to turn and look upon her father as she addressed him, her anger at him and at herself manifested in a quiet, hollow but determined voice that seemed to be balancing upon a knife's edge.

"Your silence is answer enough for me….Although I appreciate that you did not try to lie to me."

Amorette finally turned slowly back to the room, taking care to let her eyes fall anywhere but upon her father. He did not speak at all, and no jibes or cruel humour passed his lips. Amorette was glad of it, for now more than ever she wanted him gone before any more trouble was caused. She ventured into the room, moving towards D'artagnan as Treville crossed behind her to stand in her spot by the window.

"What?" asked the young musketeer as Amorette reached him and held out her hand expectantly.

"Key please?"

"Not a chance in hell," replied D'artagnan with a swift shake of the head.

"Didn't you hear what we said Madam?" cried Porthos. "We aren't doing this!"

"Key please?" Amorette asked more firmly this time. Removing her father's shackles was only the beginning though and she knew it. She would have to persuade them to stand aside as he walked free and that was no easy feat.

Athos stepped forward and Amorette wasn't sure if he was scowling at her or if it was in fact a concerned frown. "Amorette what are you doing?"

Amorette tried to ignore the tired and pleading tone of his voice as she continued to stare at D'artagnan. "Fine, if you won't give me the key then unlock the shackles yourself!"

"D'artagnan, do as she asks!" Treville barked suddenly.

Amorette turned along with everyone else to stare at the musketeer captain who nodded to D'artagnan. "It's an order, to be followed." _How much did he know?_ Had he realised what Amorette had planned within the last few moments inside her head?

Amorette watched as a war broke out across D'artagnan's face. Tearing his gaze away from Treville he set his eyes upon Athos, hoping the older musketeer would provide him with some sort of answer. Athos seemed at a loss too, and Eventually D'artagnan was left with no choice but to approach Lord Barclay stiffly, and fish in his doublet pocket for the key. The soft clicking sound that released her father's wrists seemed to resonate throughout the room ominously as Lord Barclay stood up and tried to catch Amorette's eye.

She took a direct step backwards as he walked across the room towards the doorway and Amorette wasn't surprised when Porthos moved to block it.

"Let him pass!" Treville cried sharply.

The room fell silent again as Lord Barclay halted just before Porthos, and the musketeer gazed at his three friends in turn before looking to his captain. Amorette knew he was torn as to what to do next, and she hated the fact she had put them all in that position, but she had no other conceivable way before her that would allow her to manoeuvre things so well in the favour of herself and her friends. For a few seconds, there was an expectant silence, where they all foresaw some kind of ruckus breaking out but eventually Porthos seemed to conclude to himself that he should follow his captain's orders and moved aside.

Lord Barclay walked with purpose to the doorway, but Amorette was sure she sensed just a hint of urgency about him that could only have been increased by Porthos' menacing glare from where he stood just inside the doorway. He still had the gall though to turn back to glance at Amorette momentarily.

She shook her head as if that movement would prevent him from manipulating her for a final time. "I never want to see you again after today, ever!" she solemnly said.

With that, he was gone. "Are we really just letting him walk out of here?" Porthos cried as Amorette still stared at the spot where her father had disappeared.

"You knew didn't you?" she heard D'artagnan ask her. "You're not even shocked."

Amorette nodded without turning to look at him. "I think I always knew deep down."

Slowly she let her eyes begin to rove back around the room, finally coming to meet Athos' own gaze. What she found there was pain. She did not doubt there would be another argument with regards to her secret keeping when they were finally alone. It struck her then that there might indeed be a boundary where that was concerned. One day he might decide that she had kept too many things from him and he couldn't go on like that anymore. Would that day be today? Amorette knew it must have hurt him so very much to continually be confronted with things Amorette had kept with him, and if the roles were reversed she would certainly find it painful. She couldn't help feeling that she would have made more of an effort to understand though. Athos was likely to grow hot headed and resentful without thinking of her reasons for keeping such secrets.

She tore her eyes away from his painful ones and back to Treville who seemed to be contemplating whether he had done the right thing or not. Amorette certainly could understand why he would be questioning what he had allowed to happen. He might have guessed what she was up to, but it would still cost him a great deal.

The room felt oppressive with all eyes upon her, wondering why she had been so keen to let the man who had killed her own mother go free. It seemed the only way to explain it properly was to show them.

"If you'd all be as good as to follow me out into the street," Amorette mumbled, "There's something you might all be keen to see."

Hoping and praying that what had played out in her mind had actually worked, Amorette led the way outside into the yard and through the arch way. Just as she reached the street she caught a glimpse of copper out of the corner of her eye, and rolled her eyes in annoyance. She should have known Henry Fitzgerald wouldn't have left until he saw the fallout. Crossing out into the street, a shock of red uniforms had Amorette visibly sighing in relief. There ensconced within a brigade of Red Guards was her father.

It seemed he had decided it would have been fruitless to try and fight off ten men alone and had instead decided upon a war of words. Lord Barclay's vehemence was directed at Captain Eustis who stood with his arms crossed nonchalantly. A smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth and Amorette was sure that would only antagonise her father in time. She sensed the musketeers arriving at her side and was sure they would have shared a few furtive glances with one another.

"What; so, we can't arrest him but they can?" Porthos asked incredulously.

"That's about the sum of it," Amorette replied and even she could admit that she sounded a little pleased with herself.

Her father had heard her speak and turned towards her with an angry scowl. Amorette didn't step back in precaution even though she desperately wanted to.

"You said your friends would help me!" Lord Barclay cried furiously.

Amorette had to stifle a chuckle as she saw how enraged her father was. There was something rather delicious about the scorn he felt for her now that she had the upper hand. "I said no such thing," said Amorette. "I said that my friends would not prevent you from leaving the musketeer garrison and they didn't. Once you passed through those gates behind us though you were no longer within the garrison. The Paris city streets fall under jurisdiction of the Red Guards unless there are mitigating circumstances-"

"Tell these braggarts to release me now!" Lord Barclay roared as he tried to shake off the two Red Guards who had grabbed hold of his upper arms. "You said your friends would not stop me!"

Amorette grinned then. "I did, yes. The thing is, that these men are not my friends. I have no influence over the Red Guards. They will do with you as they see fit. I trust Captain Eustis to be a fair man, so I'm sure that you'll eventually be returned to England, but quite frankly they could through you into the Châtelet and let you rot for all I care!"

"I see you have learned to play the game well then," Lord Barclay roared again as he still struggled.

Amorette shook her head knowingly. "There's no game here. I know what you are like. I don't want any of my friends having anything to do with you!"

Amorette nodded to Captain Eustis and he gave his men the order to walk. Lord Barclay still struggled as they moved off, but Amorette thought he knowingly did not struggle enough to break free. If he behaved well enough, the English ambassador would have him back on English soil within a few weeks.

"Henry!" Amorette called. She knew the Scotsman was still nearby even if she could not pick him out of a crowd. "I know you're here!

Sure enough, after a few seconds Henry emerged from Amorette's far right to fix her with an apprehensive stare.

"Perhaps you should make your leave Henry, before someone decides to arrest you too!"

Henry leaned in towards Amorette, and for a second she thought to step backwards before he planted a swift kiss upon her cheek. She felt slightly guilty for feeling reserved in his presence, but she couldn't forget the anger and ill temperament that she knew he was capable of.

"You'll never be entirely free of that man until his death…" Henry whispered gently to her before he turned on his heel with the intention of marching away, but a bark from Athos had him glancing over his shoulder again.

"Fitzgerald! Whilst I'm willing to extend the courtesy of understanding and sympathy to you for the loss of your brother today, you will not always meet with such agreeable terms where us musketeers are concerned. If I see you in Paris again I will arrest you."

Athos' words were lacking in any real threat, but Amorette was sure that he meant them even if henry saw the comical side. He smirked boldly although the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Look after her," Henry called with a jerk of his head towards Amorette before vanishing down a side-street.

Turning back around to face everyone else was not something that Amorette was looking forward to in the slightest, but it was something that she would have to do eventually. The cold began to bite at her bare neck and she was solemnly reminded that she had left the palace without hat or cloak.

Despite feeling a little warmer back inside Treville's office, Amorette still missed the presence of her hat and cloak if only to have something to do with her hands. She might have fiddled with the feather plumes or twisted the brim of her hat, but in the cold and ominous silence she was left wringing only her hands together.

"What did you want me to do?" she asked of them all eventually. "Let him continue to play his games? He enjoys nothing more than to watch people squirm."

"I don't understand the difference between us arresting him and the Red Guard taking charge of the matter!" announced D'artagnan. "We would have done things properly, by the book. Lord knows how the Red Guard will deal with the matter."

Amorette rolled her eyes partly in annoyance, but mostly it was tiredness. She was cold and weary now that all of the excitement had ended and wanted nothing more than to return to her rooms at the Louvre to soak in a hot bath and crawl into an early bed. She understood why there was ill feeling amongst her musketeer friends though.

Turning to a frowning Treville she said, "I'm sorry that it cost you an arrest. I know you gave up a great deal for things to play out the way that they did. I appreciate you trusting me."

Treville nodded slowly. "It was quick thinking on your part to think of the Red Guards. I must confess that although it may seem to have cost us a great deal, I cannot say I am very sorry for it. Your father would have caused quite the headache to deal with, and you were right to think he would use that to his own advantage."

"He'd have used all of you to his own advantage," Amorette mused. "I couldn't allow that. He'd have tried to manipulate everything. He's far better off out of reach of all of you."

"Do you really think we'd have allowed him to?" growled Athos suddenly and Amorette turned sharply to witness his anger for herself.

Amorette shook her head as she moved forward and laid a gentle hand upon his arm to try and placate him. "I think you'd have let your anger cloud your vision Athos. He'd have used that to his advantage! Besides, it's not all about that. It's about me trying to protect something of mine. Do you really think I wanted my father to be able to toy with anyone that I care about?"

Athos pulled his wrist from her grip abruptly and turned away from her. "Oh I think your priorities are somewhat amiss Amorette!"

Amorette rolled her eyes again as she tried to ready herself for the onslaught of criticism she was surely about to face, but something within her mind told her that she didn't have to. She tried to shake off the feeling of apparent defeat that was suddenly beginning to overwhelm her but it wouldn't budge. There was no need for her to face Athos' disappointment in her so publicly and when she was so overwrought.

When she turned on her heel and left the captain's office for the yard below, no one tried to stop her and Amorette was sorely relieved when she made it all the way back out onto the street unhindered. It was only late afternoon and she was grateful for the remaining daylight that stayed with her until she returned to the Louvre and to her own rooms.

Tilda had seemed to sense Amorette's terseness even before her mistress had slipped off her heeled slippers and kicked them under her bed. Amorette retreated to the secluded balcony that her new rooms offered her that she was still trying to grow accustomed to and sipped on a glass of wine as she gazed out over the Jardin des Tuileries. The cold didn't seem to affect her as much then as it had done earlier and Amorette supposed it was more than likely the prospect of a hot bath awaiting her. Amorette had barely begun to warm herself up in the hot water before she tore herself away from it and into a thick nightshift. It was only beginning to grow dark outside and she knew most of the Palace would not yet have consumed their evening meal, but Amorette wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and let sleep take her.

"I see what you mean about her secrets," Treville mused as he poured wine into tankards at his desk and handed them to the two men in turn before taking the last one for himself.

Athos, who took his tankard and nursed it tersely with no desire to consume its contents shrugged his shoulders as he deposited himself into a chair. "The question is, how many more of them are there? I made her promise months ago that there would no more secrets between us. That was her opportunity to tell me all of what has been disclosed today. Am I going to spend my life in constant revelation of her secrets? Of all the things to keep to herself, the fact that she believed her father had a hand in her mother's death is not one of them. That was something that she should have disclosed to me!"

Aramis shook his head exasperatedly from where he stood by the fireplace. "Athos I don't think you are taking everything into consideration here. You need to look not at _what_ she kept secret but _why_ she kept it so. It must be a terrifying thought to know her own father may have ended her mother's life, but to have no absolute proof. I suppose it began as just a niggling thought in her mind and grew and grew until she herself probably thought she was going mad. She likely thought that no one would believe her, or that to actually voice it and put it into words would make it feel even more real! Imagine if she had thought it for so long; told everyone that cared and then discovered that her father was innocent! She'd never have forgiven herself."

"Aramis is right," nodded Treville. "That's not an easy thing to disclose even to one's closest friends. I can't believe that you never had an inkling though Athos; since both of you claim to know each other so well?"

Athos sighed heavily as she set the still untouched tankard of wine down upon the desk before him and ran a hand across his tired face. "I clearly don't know her well enough though do I?"

"She's not her sister though," Aramis announced. "She isn't Ann. Amorette will keep you on your toes that's for sure; but in all of the right ways I suspect. She's defensive and independent so there will always be things she will think she can deal with by herself. In that respect she will tell you these secrets at her own discretion and feel no shame for it. To me it seems that she still wishes to have her own life. It will be important to her, after growing up under the influence of such a father. You simply have to find a way to break down that barrier Athos."

"In all of this business with her father; I think she was right in that we are better off out of reach of the man." Treville drank deeply from his tankard before continuing. "I know you will not see that right now Athos, but whatever turmoil you feel right now, her father would only have amplified it. He's a dangerous and cunning man who would have used whatever tricks he could to unseat you. He'd have driven you to kill him more than likely and then where would you be? Languishing in the Bastille on the charge of killing an English peer of the realm; having killed the father of a woman you care greatly for? How would that be better for her? You've been friends for a very long time Athos so surely what you have with the Cometess is worth far more than an arrest. We would still have our hands tied as the Red Guards will do now. They will have to hand Lord Barclay over to the English authorities eventually just as we would have to do. I think its best it plays out like this."

"You need to talk to her Athos!" cried Aramis. "Talk all of this through without getting angry and without blaming her for keeping things bottled up. That's the only way to try and resolve the matter. She's a woman after all; and bottling things up is what they do best."

Amorette could hear the sounds of the Palace beyond the walls of her room as evening set in. She lay in bed in the darkness and listened to the early evening wanderers as they made their way to dine lavishly. There were also the early revellers who had been drinking during the afternoon raucously returning to their rooms. Amorette had sent a rather reluctant Tilda home much earlier and for the first while the loneliness had been a blessing. Now though, as the bleak darkness seemed to creep even further into her heart she longed for the company of her maid who seemed to have the uncanny knack of knowing the right thing to say at the right time, or when to say nothing at all.

She had never really considered that her most sacred secret would ever be disclosed to anyone, but Amorette had knowingly given it away earlier that day in the hopes that they might have caught Lord Barclay out. Athos had rightly said her father could only be confined within France if he had killed a French citizen and for the slimmest of seconds Amorette had the tantalising thought that her father might admit before witnesses that he had in fact killed her mother. His death warrant would practically have been signed in those few seconds. He had stayed silent on the matter though, but that had been enough. Amorette knew the truth now and that would have to be enough to placate her for the rest of her life.

The sounds of the Palace began to fade a little as the courtiers descended to the lower floors and it was because of this that Amorette was able to discern the distinctive footfalls of booted feet as they proceeded up the hallway towards her room. Amorette was grateful for the forewarning and as the unique knock upon her door followed the footsteps she was able to roll over in bed so that she faced away from the door.

Amorette closed her eyes and slowed her breaths as she heard Athos' footsteps as he crossed the parlour, depositing his doublet on the couch as he went. As her bedchamber door creaked open Amorette made no movement, pretending to be asleep as Athos crossed the room in the darkness and lowered himself gently down onto the other side of the bed. She heard the gentle fall of his boots onto the floor and the slight creaking of the bed frame as he swung his legs up onto the bed and lay back. Amorette didn't dare to flinch or take one breath out of place as they both lay in the darkness, Athos no doubt listening to her steady breathing to try and decipher whether she was really asleep or not.

Her ploy seemed to work though. After a few seconds, Athos turned onto his side behind her and his arm fell onto her waist like a dead weight. He huffed out a heavy drawn out sigh against the side of her neck and Amorette imagined him closing his eyes and willing sleep to come. It didn't take long; and within a few minutes Amorette felt like she was alone in the room again as Athos' steady breaths brushed her neck.

Sleep didn't come for her though. Not able to move around due to Athos' heavy arm pushing her into the mattress, Amorette was forced to stay where she was and relive the events of the day within her mind as if they were happening all over again. Vaguely she let her mind wonder to where her father might have been taken. Whichever prison it was though, it would not be too much of a tormenting experience. Her father had money and influence and Amorette was without doubt that he would have procured the finest rooms wherever he had been taken.

Had she been expecting closure of some sort; now that she knew the truth? If so, Amorette was resigned to the fact that she had been entirely wrong. It would more than likely plague her thoughts forever that what had started out as the petty wanderings of a teenage mind had evolved into full blown suspicions about her own father, and had turned out to be true. In her mind, suddenly she saw it happen; her mother lying in bed and her father capturing her thin neck with a thick gold chain. She had seen it thousands of times in her mind, and each time it was slightly different. This time though it was all the more poignant and all the more distressing because Amorette knew that what she was seeing had some basis in reality. She would probably never know her father's real reasoning behind such an action; or that of all of his other actions too. There would always be that question hanging above her head as to why her father had killed her mother.

Sleep eluded Amorette entirely. It was only as the first shaft of light broke through the drapes covering the windows that she conceded defeat and hoped Athos would not sleep for too much longer. She supposed that a part of her was still feeling guilty that she had kept so much from him even after all that they had been through. She was still a little unsure why he had stayed with her if he had thought her asleep though. Undoubtedly, he had come to her rooms the evening before to talk to her, and finding her asleep Amorette wondered why he hadn't just taken the opportunity to go back to the garrison or to a tavern with his friends. There had been no alcohol on his breath as he had lain down beside her the night before and Amorette had been glad of it. Aramis had assured her many times that Athos' drinking had subsided a great deal but she had considered a day like the one that had just passed as ample reason for him to feel he needed a drink.

Still unable to move due to his arm pinning her to him, Amorette tried to maneuver her stiff neck a little without letting him know that she was awake. He began to stir shortly afterwards and Amorette stilled her own movements, hoping to fool him into thinking that she was asleep again. She felt him stir a little more as he woke and then her heart leapt into her mouth as he sat up in bed and was no doubt gazing at her to ascertain if she was really asleep. For a second time, it seemed to work and he made as if to move from the bed. The sudden thought occurred to Amorette though that she didn't want him to leave without saying goodbye. With Paris as tenuous as it was, no one knew what the next day would bring. Acting on impulse, Amorette rolled quickly onto her back and grabbed a fistful of Athos' sleeve before her could go any further.

In the grainy light, she couldn't quite make out his expression but he complied and slid back down onto the bed. Amorette let herself be pulled into his chest as he cradled her close and they stayed like that for a time before Athos pulled away slightly to kiss her. _He didn't hate her then._ If Amorette had been capable of breath during the kiss she might have breathed a visible sigh of relief.

"We need to talk," Athos murmured as he pulled away eventually. "I have some time this morning before I am due back."

Amorette nodded even as a lump formed at the base of her throat. She didn't want to talk about it. Wouldn't it have been such bliss if they could just agree not to talk of what had passed the day before and carry on as if it had not happened? Why did everything always have to be discussed and dissected before it was brushed under the carpet. If he wanted to talk though, Amorette knew that she owed it to him to do so without any preamble. The room grew suddenly stifling and Amorette slid out of his grip and got up. She threw back the drapes to let a grim and grey light invade the room and the sound of heavy rain reached her ears. She grabbed a shawl from a nearby chair and stepped out onto the small balcony to feel the fresh air around her.

There was something uniquely tantalising about the fresh moist air of a rainfall, especially in the silence of the still early morning when no one else was there to witness it. Amorette closed her eyes and let her thoughts float away from her for a few moments. The ledge above her head shielded her from most of the rain and she eventually opened her eyes to gaze out at the v very wet Jardin des Tuileries. There would be no brisk walks in the gardens today for the ladies even if the rain did stop. The ground would be sodden, forcing them all to remain cooped up indoors. Amorette blithely thought that she might as well claim exhaustion and stay hidden within her chambers. No doubt word would begin to spread of her father's arrest and she would be badgered with questions.

Just as she considered what kind of questions people would ask, Athos stepped out onto the balcony beside her. He had pulled on his boots, but his doublet remained absent and he stood with her in just his shirt and breeches. She hadn't considered how she would explain everything to him and Amorette hoped he would ask quick and concise questions that would leave her little opportunity to dwell upon the matter too much. He had said he had time though.

She turned to face him eventually to find him already gazing at her intently and expectantly. He was going to ask no questions; she realised and Amorette was going to have to find the words to frame everything in her mind.

 _ **So, will Amorette tell Athos everything? I can feel another argument brewing between these two, but as we all know there's only one really good way to take the heat out of an argument**_ __ _ **This chapter and the next are bringing an end to the penultimate arc of the story and there's only one more to go! That does mean we are coming close to the end, but I still couldn't tell you how many chapters that might take as I do tend to get carried away. In the next chapter, I'm hoping for some more action from Claude, as I love her rather bad influence on Amorette!**_


	59. Chapter 59

_**First of all, if you noticed that I added then deleted, then republished this chapter its because I forgot to add the ruddy poem! So if you've read the chapter already, don't worry because the poem is all that has changed. You only need to read that!**_

 _ **Okay… so this chapter became rather more indecent than I'd planned, but hey ho! Somehow, I can't imagine many of you complaining about that! I don't know if it's any good as that particular genre of writing isn't something I've tried before this story so I hope it works.**_

 _ **only own Amorette.**_

 _'Twas a new feeling - something more_  
 _Than we had dared to own before,_  
 _Which then we hid not;_  
 _We saw it in each other's eye,_  
 _And wished, in every half-breathed sigh,_  
 _To speak, but did not._

 _She felt my lips' impassioned touch -_  
 _'Twas the first time I dared so much,_  
 _And yet she chid not;_  
 _But whispered o'er my burning brow,_  
 _'Oh, do you doubt I love you now?'_  
 _Sweet soul! I did not._

 _Warmly I felt her bosom thrill,_  
 _I pressed it closer, closer still,_  
 _Though gently bid not;_  
 _Till - oh! the world hath seldom heard_  
 _Of lovers, who so nearly erred,_  
 _And yet, who did not._

 _Thomas Moore - Did Not _

* * *

"I don't really know where to start Athos…" Amorette sighed eventually.

"Why don't we start with what I presume will be the easier of the two subjects," he replied matter-of-factly. "I can't imagine how you must have felt that day when I told you I was marrying your sister, but I still don't see how that gave you the inclination to keep secret what your father did to you that day."

"I've never felt pain like it you know," Amorette mumbled.

"What did he do?" Athos asked and Amorette heard a slight hint of alarm in his voice.

She chuckled dryly. "Not that, the pain I was referring to was borne from your confession that you were going to marry my sister. I had noticed you had grown fond of her but I had never envisaged you marrying her. I had always secretly harboured the wish to marry you myself and suddenly there you were professing your love for my sister and preparing to remove yourself from my life."

"But isn't that the real reason you stayed away from the wedding?" he asked.

"Don't flatter yourself," Amorette snorted. "I had every intention of going to the wedding you know. Despite what you think I was happy for you. I think somewhere deep down I had known for a while that I was not the one to make you happy back then. That was what I wanted for you more than anything; to be happy. My sister seemed a reasonable choice to most compared to me. After all who would risk the ire of my father by asking for my hand. The poor soul would have to spend the rest of their lives tied to the man's deeds through a marriage to me. That didn't seem a fair gift to bestow upon anyone. No, I knew if I went to the wedding in that state, you might call it off and do something drastic. Henry thought so too. We thought you might marry me instead in an attempt to save me somehow and where would that have left Ann. I did not want to hurt my sister or you. I wanted you both to have the life that you had planned for yourselves together."

Amorette stepped forward to lean against the balustrade and let a few gentle rain drops prick the cold skin of her face. She felt unable to look at Athos now that they had entered into a discussion she felt wholly uncomfortable with. There was a part of her that still believed he would look upon her as he had done eleven years ago; with pity.

"Still doesn't explain why you kept it from me Amorette," he said with a shake of the head. "Fair enough, you didn't want to make a spectacle of yourself at the wedding but you could have sent word in a letter. I could have done something to help! Goodness knows, Ann and I could have taken you in."

It was Amorette's turn to shake her head. "What, go and live in the marital home of my sister that I barely knew and the man who I had loved since I was a child? At the time, I think I preferred the prospect of being my father's prime target. Is that what you think, that I'd have made a spectacle of myself?"

"You're taking my words out of context now Amorette. I only meant that you have never been one to enjoy being the centre of attention. You were shy and reserved. I can't imagine you wanting all of those wedding guests to be looking upon the injuries that your father had inflicted upon you, that's all."

"Then why are you so bothered if you understand all of that?"

Amorette thought she could sense him shaking his head incredulously in her direction. "You've had ample opportunity since you came back to Paris to tell me about all of that Amorette. Especially when we agreed that there were to be no more secrets between us. You should have told me all of this when we made that agreement!"

Amorette finally turned to glance at him, feeling a little anger beginning to rise within her. "Athos you already knew what kind of man my father was! What difference does that day make to any other when he raised a hand towards me."

"Every one of those days is important, but I was there with you only hours before that day. I can't shake the feeling that your disagreement with your father that day had something to do with me; that it was partly my fault."

Amorette snorted again. "Oh yes it's all about you isn't it? You've spent so long telling me that I am not at fault for any of my father's actions, so why on earth would you be to blame?"

"Because I encouraged you to stand up for yourself, to rebel."

Amorette tried to let the anger ebb away as she gave him a small smile. "Athos you encouraging that was the best thing you could ever have done for me. If you hadn't and I'd cowered in the corner for my whole life then I'd have been a lot worse off. Hell, I'd probably still be under my father's thumb even now!"

"I guess I should have been more observant back then," he muttered. "As you rightly said, I knew what your father was capable of."

"You were in love," supplied Amorette. "You had other things occupying your head and who would have expected anything else of you? You had Ann to think of."

"Are you going to keep bringing her up Amorette? As some kind of talisman to ward me off? I know you would rather not have this conversation but here we are, and bringing up your sister does not put me off even though I do not understand what she has to do with any of this!"

"Athos we cannot forget that you once married my sister! We cannot ignore it! We must face it head on! I know that you do not think of her kindly at all but she was my family! You do all three of us a disrespect by omitting her from conversation." When Athos made no reply Amorette carried on, "You disrespect my mother by doing so as well."

Athos raised an incredulous brow. "I know it's not easy for you to talk about this, but you need to tell me now why that particular secret about your mother's death was kept from me. I have always thought that you knew you could trust me with anything! That should have been the one thing above all others that you came to me with! Is there no trust between us Amorette? Is that the issue? I bet Buckingham knew within days didn't he?"

Amorette turned away from him again to look out across the gardens and tried to keep her anger in check. When she spoke again it was barely a whisper. "I never told the Duke of Buckingham. He does not know. I never told Henry Fitzgerald either! Henry loved my mother as he did his own. Both of them would have acted irrationally if I had so much as mentioned it in passing! I didn't even know if what I believed was true! I couldn't bear the thought of accusing my own father of the worst crime possible only to find out I'd been wrong! Doing something like that would have been lowering myself to my father's level. Of course, now that I know the truth I think on it a little differently but it's still not something I want everyone to know about!"

Athos appeared at her side at the balustrade and gripped the stone masonry with a tense hand, his knuckles white against his skin. "Amorette that still doesn't explain why you deliberately hid things from me! Where do we go from here Amorette?" He threw his hands up into the air in exasperation and turned to look out at the gardens.

"Where do we go?" Amorette asked softly.

Athos shook his head again. "I don't know where we go, not when you still don't believe I'm with you for the right reasons. After everything we've been through you still doubt my love for you! You still hide things from me deliberately for whatever reason. You could have told me and we could have talked it though together. You know I've never judged you or any of your beliefs Amorette!"

Amorette let out a harsh bark of laughter. "What about when I first came back to Paris and you treated me so abominably? I'm pretty sure that was you judging me!"

Athos rolled his eyes in irritation. "Are you going to bring us right back to all of that? I thought I'd already apologised profusely for all of it but it obviously still upsets you Amorette! This isn't necessarily about what you've kept hidden from me, but why you kept it hidden. How are we to continue any sort of relationship; hell, any sort of friendship when you continue to keep secrets? We agreed there would be no more of this, that whatever happened we would discuss it with one another. Now I am back to questioning just how much more you've kept from me. You lied to me Amorette. You told me there was nothing more and yet it just keeps coming."

"I don't know what you want me to say Athos! I've told you why I kept those things to myself! Surely you can understand my dilemma?"

Athos' eyes flared in anger. "Dilemma? Amorette we could have tried to make sense of it together! What has the last few months been for if we cannot even do that? I think the truth might just be that at heart you are still little more than a child chasing Buckingham's coat tails whilst playing his articulate game of schemes and intrigues!"

"Now we come to the crux of the problem Athos!" Amorette roared suddenly. "Your foolish sense of competition between you and the Duke of Buckingham! I know you do not like him! I know you would perhaps rather that he was not one of my closest friends but that point is moot! George has been a good friend to me when I had no one else! I'm not going to say that George is an honest man, or even a good man but I trust him! I'm not asking you to have anything whatsoever to do with him or to trust him yourself. All I've ever asked is that you trust my judgement of my friend in regards to his dealings with me! He knew nothing of the majority of the things I also kept from you!"

"Competition?" Athos spat incredulously. "I know Buckingham is just a friend to you, but you must understand how diminishing it is for me to suspect that there are intrinsic things to you that you have told him and not me, especially after we have agreed to disclose everything to one another. I don't know how much more of that I can take Amorette! As a King's musketeer, I have a duty and responsibility to protect and maintain the security and safety not just of the King and his family but all of Paris' inhabitants. As such; secrets and lies do not sit well with me!"

"Athos those secrets were a private matter!" Amorette cried. "I was not causing harm by keeping them to myself. I will perhaps admit that it was wrong of me not to tell you of what happened that day at my father's house. I didn't want to be the cause of disruption to your wedding though. I will also admit that my pride was wounded. I may have unwillingly provoked my father by arguing with him about money and at that time I felt a fool for putting myself in that position. I will not apologise for not disclosing the matter of my mother's death though. That is such a private matter Athos, and one I've had to live with all of my life. The pieces of it had been so fragmented for a long time that I would not have known just how to tell anyone else. I know my father is an evil man, but despite my suspicions I couldn't bring myself to blacken his name even further by voicing my suspicions that he may have killed my mother. How do you tell anyone that? You hate my father as much as I do, but how am I to know how you would react to such news! I do trust you, and know you wouldn't have spoken to anyone else if I'd asked you not to but something just wouldn't let me voice it all. You might have acted rashly. Ordering raids or attacking my father in some way. I couldn't let that happen without knowing truly what had happened that night all those years ago!

"How could I condemn him for something that I was not certain of? I drove myself mad sometimes; questioning and ridiculing the thoughts that drove me to believe he killed my mother. I didn't want to believe it of my own father, but he hadn't exactly presented an example of someone I could put my faith or trust in. last night I had those thoughts and suspicions confirmed. Now it feels like that morning eleven years ago, all over again; when my mother's maid crept into the room to wake me. I'll never forget the turmoil and upset in her eyes as she tried to tell me what she had found that morning when she went to tend to my mother."

Amorette felt her voice wobble and finally stopped speaking, worried that if she continued, her next words would come out as a wail. A hand gently fell onto her shoulder and squeezed but she couldn't bring herself to look at Athos.

"That's a hell of a secret to keep to yourself for so long Amorette," he mumbled. "I wish you had talked to me, because it might have helped you. That's why you never took a real maid for so long isn't it? You don't really have one now do you?" Amorette opened her mouth to protest and Athos held up his hand to stop her. "You've had people help out, and I know Tilda is the closest thing to a lady's maid you've ever had but she's more of a friend to you I think. I've seen you with her Amorette and I know you employed her because you wanted to help someone. You've never had a live-in maid because of what you've just disclosed to me, isn't that it?" Amorette nodded stiffly, clamping her mouth shut as she tried not to cry. "I can see in your eyes that your mother's maid had a terrible fright, and the days after your mother's death must have been a horrible experience for her and you don't want that to happen to anyone you employ. You're still living in the past Amorette."

"I think I always will."

Athos sighed heavily and turned to lean the back of his waist against the balustrade so that he could better see her face. "You have never really talked that much about your mother's death to me."

"Can you blame me Athos, now that you know the truth?" Amorette asked with a sniff.

"We should; and will talk it through because I think you need to. Not now of course, because you're upset, but soon. You know I'm not trying to probe but it's because I want to understand it and to help you," said Athos.

Amorette nodded stiffly as she tried to turn away from him, feeling that the conversation had reached its natural end, but as she shrugged Athos' hand from her shoulder, it fell to grip her wrist firmly.

"I think I'll go back to bed for a while Athos," she mumbled. "I know you probably have somewhere you need to be."

Athos' thumb was rubbing gentle circles into the skin of the back of her hand. "Amorette I said we wouldn't talk about your mother now, but I think we need to talk about us."

Amorette shook her head again and tried to pull away as a whimper escaped her lips. "I can't do this now Athos!"

"Can't do what Amorette?" Athos asked as he tried to catch her eye. She turned her head away and he moved to stand in front of her, gripping her chin between thumb and forefinger. "What do you think I'm going to say to you?"

Amorette felt the tears begin to flow freely then as she let the realisation that he might be about to end their relationship overwhelm her. "You're going to say that we need to end things, or that we need to spend time apart and I don't have the capacity to deal with it right now!"

"Why not?" Athos asked her as the cobalt blue eyes gazed into hers with an intensity so strong Amorette felt her legs begin to tremble. The fingers holding her chin tightened their grip just a little as Amorette tried to wriggle away from him.

"Because I love you!" Amorette wailed. "I love you now more than I think I've ever done in my life and I don't want to hurt you or keep things from you, it's just that I didn't feel like I had any choice and I don't want to be without you or apart from you! I can't be apart from you now, not after these last few months. I can't do it and I won't! I don't care if your angry and upset with me anymore! I had my reasons for keeping my secrets and I'm not going to apologise for protecting them! I'm not asking you to be okay with that but I'm asking you to respect my reasons-"

A yelp escaped Amorette's lips briefly as Athos' hand moved from her chin to caress the side of her face and he kissed her forcibly, pushing her back against the balustrade roughly. The kiss was hot and needy, but Amorette was ever conscious of the drop behind her onto the terrace below. She could feel her back arching backwards into the air over the balustrade and placed the palms of her hands against Athos' chest and pushed as hard as she could. He jerked away abruptly and Amorette pulled away from the edge swiftly. She quickly realised though that there had been no chance of her falling with Athos' arm clamped tightly around her waist.

He didn't give her another second to think, using his arm still around her as a pivot to turn her and shove her roughly against the wall by the door that led back into the room. Amorette let out a soft groan as the wall hit her back and his eyes seemed to whisper a soft sorry even as he lunged towards her for a kiss again. Amorette let a soft groan escape into Athos' mouth even as tears still rolled down her face and the thought sprung into her head for a split second that this might be the very last time that they were together so intimately. If he ended things, this time together would be the last memories she would have. She knew where the kiss would lead because of its hunger and passion so Amorette began to match that with her own. She needed it to be as real as possible and as loving as could be, for she knew in her heart that there would never be anyone else but him. If it all ended that day, and she never loved again it needed to be something for them both to remember.

His lips parted for from hers abruptly, and Amorette felt his warm breath on her cheek as his body still pressed hers against the wall. Amorette was glad of it for her knees were trembling so badly that she thought she'd have fallen without his support. The material of her nightgown had never felt so rough against her own skin as when her erect nipples dragged against it, her heartbeat thudding in her ears. Athos dipped his head down to kiss Amorette's neck and she let her hair head fall back as her mouth formed a soft O shape. A hand gently cupped one of her breasts and Amorette felt one of her legs jerk from the contact. There was no doubt in her mind that she felt Athos grin against her neck as he continued to gently leave a trail of kisses up the side of her neck and along her jaw line. Just as he reached her mouth though, he stilled. Desire pooled between Amorette's legs as she stared into his unwavering and promising gaze.

"I love you too," he whispered against her lips as he kissed her softly this time. He pulled away again. "Perhaps if you will not let me tell you how I love you, you will let me show you?" he asked with a raised brow. Amorette let out a whimper of desire as he kissed her again, much more passionately this time. He pulled away just long enough to murmur "This is mine," against her lips.

Amorette squirmed beneath him as she felt the urge to be closer to him even as he was pressed against her. The hand still cupping her breast tightened so abruptly that Amorette thought she was going to peak there and then. Athos' hand kneaded her breast through her nightgown as with his other hand he gently pulled the shawl from her shoulders to pool at her feet. His other hand began to explore the curves of her waist as he kissed her soundly. The hand holding her breast moved then, crawling up until it reached the neckline of her nightgown. His fingers; chilled by the cool morning air were suddenly upon the bare skin of her chest and working their way down again, beneath her gown this time until the coolness cupped her breast in the palm of his calloused hand. Amorette shuddered and groaned audibly, her anticipation mounting as his fingers fondled.

Suddenly the bud of her nipple was encased between two of his fingers as his thumb brushed the bottom of her breast gently. The edge of his fingernail moved along the tender skin as if tracing a map, leaving Amorette mewling at the motion and he grinned down at her. "This is also mine," he repeated. He tugged on her nipple with those two fingers, twisting and pushing it so tightly that Amorette closed her eyes and swiftly came apart right there in his arms. Lost in the feel of his hands and arms upon and around her; when Amorette's outward senses came into a slightly foggy focus again, the coldness of the morning air was no longer brushing against her face. She was lying on her bed, with Athos hovering over her.

Her nightgown was on the floor just inside the door, and Athos was struggling out of his shirt as his eyes shone with desire. Amorette reached up with fumbling hands to unbutton his breaches rather haphazardly and he kicked them away as he reached up to brush his sweat sculpted hair from his face. The soft grin that tugged the corners of his mouth upwards mesmerised Amorette as he stared down at her, his eyes roving over her body as if he was planning his next assault of it. Amorette reached up again to caress his face lightly and he leaned down to kiss her.

Amorette let the rising gasp scrape the sides of her throat as his fingers plunged inside her and he pulled away to gaze at her again. "This is mine," he murmured as his fingers began to move. It was then that Amorette realised just what was happening; what Athos was trying to make her realise. In response, her hips acted on impulse, rising to meet his motions and guiding his fingers further inside her. He wasted no time in continuing to show her, finally removing his fingers to bury his arousal into her folds.

Amorette cried out and Athos groaned and panted along with her, stilling his actions to repeat himself yet again. "This is mine Amorette. This is mine and only mine, today, tonight, tomorrow, the day after that, and the day after that, for always and forever. I love you Amorette. Nothing in this world will part us, I swear I'll make sure of that. Nothing that ever happens between us can do that either. I'm here forever and I love you!"

Athos began to move again, but Amorette was already beginning to dissolve around and underneath him as her tears continued to roll down her cheeks. She had felt nothing like it before in her life, the coursing and pulsing adrenaline that gave way to ebbing slivers of passion that bit into each of her senses until she couldn't think, breathe or see. She felt Athos land upon her chest as a spasm coursed through his taught body, his mouth leaving hers and she winced as his teeth scraped along her collarbone that was slick with sweat, before his head came to rest between her breasts. For what felt like moments there was nothing but the feel of his hands upon her tingling skin as he lay back on the bed and pulled until her body was draped over his.

"Athos?" she rasped in barely a whisper as the hair of his sweaty chest tickled her reddened cheek.

"I know," he replied gently as he lifted one of her hands to his lips and began to press fine kisses to each of her fingertips. Amorette was unconscious before he'd reached her thumb.

When she woke a little while later, the daylight was only a little more prominent. Amorette hadn't slept for long, but Athos was already trying to shift beneath her, one hand reaching to the floor for his discarded shirt.

"You need to go soon?" Amorette asked gingerly.

Athos made an affirmative grunt and Amorette rolled off him, back onto the bed. "You look exhausted Amorette. Get some sleep and I'll come and find you later."

Amorette chuckled lightly and replied the same way she always did. "Don't make promises you can't keep Athos." Then as an afterthought she added, "Though after that I think you'd better!"

With a gentle flick of his wrist Athos had pulled the counterpane over Amorette so that her tender thighs and breasts were covered with the soft fur, planted a swift kiss upon her lips and was gone.

Amorette fell asleep again after Athos left, and woke four hours later with her mind disturbed by another harrowing dream. She had been running through early morning Paris again, racing over the bridge only to find herself plunging over the side into the Seine. The thought of staying abed as she had thought to do earlier now seemed alien and wholly insensible after the nightmare so Amorette managed to dress herself, albeit at a much slower rate than normal. She was still flushed and tired, but determined to free herself from the confines of her lonely room. She was oddly reluctant to spend any time alone in the room with her thoughts anymore and so she meandered through the Louvre in search of some form of occupation.

She found it in the form of Claude, who immediately noticed Amorette's slightly dishevelled state and made repeated comment of it which Amorette simply batted away with a gentle hand and a coy grin. They found themselves in a hall of the palace a while later as Claude announced to a group of the Queen's ladies that they were to perform a piece of theatre for the King's amusement. Constance and Amorette went in search of heavy trunks of costumes within the Palace cellars, the latter much pleased to be occupied by something that would take her mind off the previous day's events and abate her anticipation of seeing Athos again.

That didn't last long though. Constance and Amorette struggled along a corridor with the first two rather large trunks, sliding along the marble floor in their heeled slippers as the trunks twice the size of the two women refused to move very far at all. Porthos and D'artagnan came to their rescue and carried those trunks and a further two back up to the hall where Amorette found Athos and Aramis. They were watching the chattering women with wry amusement and Amorette saw them glancing towards a young woman with black hair who was in avid conversation with the Queen.

"Like what you see?" Amorette asked Athos coyly as she sidled up to him. Athos simply raised an eyebrow in challenge as he turned to look at Amorette and she grinned. "Well she is very pretty. Who is she?"

Athos smiled. "Yes, she is. Porthos certainly seemed to think so last time she was in Paris. Her name is Alice Clerbeaux."

"Ah," Amorette sighed in reply as she turned her attention upon Porthos. He was gazing at the woman in apparent wonder. "He certainly seems glad to see her!"

"I don't doubt he is," mumbled Athos. "I think it pains him to see the rest of us so preoccupied with women."

"Aramis isn't," supplied Amorette and Athos chuckled incredulously. "At least not on the surface. Do you know how he is dealing with the matter of this new child?"

Athos lowered his voice considerably, so that it was barely a whisper. "As you would expect. He believes there is a chance that the child may be his, so he makes regular checks of the Queen's welfare."

Amorette nodded, even though this was not news to her. "It seems they are certainly not as separated as we would believe them to be."

"We have all warned Aramis of the danger he places himself in, and of how much he risks for our Queen," Athos replied. "There is only so much we can do. They wish to be together and if they can do so secretly and undetected, then I am happy for them. I do not know however, how far us musketeers will be permitted to go in protecting their secret."

 _ **Just a little bit of smut to keep those two going**_ _ **I think it was time Athos staked his claim, don't you? In the next chapter, a little of the "bad influence Claude" and we get stuck into the thick of the last adventure of the story!**_


	60. Chapter 60

_**So, I forgot to mention in the last chapter about Alice Clerbeaux. Alice is the rich 'widow' Porthos had a dalliance with in series one, and for me I felt that was a far more believable romance than the one he has with Elodie in series three. Perhaps from this you will gather that I have the strong temptation to veer more towards the book ending for some of the characters rather than the way the TV series ended. In the book he does leave the musketeer regiment to marry a rich widow, and whilst I haven't quite decided whether he leaves the regiment or stayed, I decided to bring back Alice anyway!**_

 _ **On another note, Claude's being, well; her usual slightly uncouth self! Enjoy!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

"Don't you think the subject matter is a little questionable Claude?" Amorette cried as she stared down at the pamphlet her friend had just thrown into her lap.

"Oh Amorette I don't know what you mean! It's a love story," announced Claude, "With all of the romance and aggression that everyone loves in a play!"

Amorette rolled her eyes. "Claude it's an English play."

"No it isn't it's set in Verona!"

Amorette shook her head incredulously at her friend. "Claude it's _Shakespeare_! It was written by and English playwright and anyway that's not my point. Why on earth would the King find it amusing? He never likes romances!"

"Well the Queen is determined he shall like this one," Claude quipped before turning on her heel to stalk away.

"Constance, surely you see my point?" Amorette desperately pleaded. "Two lovers forbidden to be together who marry in secret and kill themselves because they can't be together? Surely the Queen sees how close to the bone this all is! It's going to cause a scandal!"

Constance patted Amorette's shoulder gently. "Amorette, I do know what you mean, but look at the Queen. She's going to go mad with boredom!"

Amorette turned her eyes upon the Queen who sat amongst her group of ladies as they rehearsed their lines of the play. Heavily pregnant and very close to her lying in period, the Queen had commissioned a play to be presented before her husband the King to signify her last days attending court before she removed herself to her apartments to give birth to her second child.

"But why this play?"

Constance shrugged. "Amorette the King will watch the few opening moments and then slip away as he always does. He finds theatre and the arts tiresome."

"It doesn't mean this won't cause scandal though!" Amorette retorted. "All it takes is one courtier clever enough to read between the lines and the Queen will drag Aramis and all of us down with her! _Romeo and Juliet_ …I mean; I could kill Claude for choosing such a play!"

Constance sighed heavily. "Amorette, you forget that Claude knows nothing of the Queen's relationship with Aramis. I know she suspects that the Queen has lovers but she does not know who they are. She still speculates. Claude's very free thinking-"

"Too free thinking!" Amorette interrupted.

"perhaps," Constance mused. "Either that or we worry too much."

"I don't think anyone can blame us given the situation," replied Amorette. "With everything up in the air as it is right now, sometimes I think that my worries are the only thing keeping me going."

Claude appeared again brandishing quill and ink. Taking Amorette's proffered script pamphlet she began to scratch little notes onto the top of the parchment. "Constance, you have _Benvolio_ , and Amorette you have _Mercutio_! How does that sound to both of you?"

Constance nodded solemnly. " _A plague upon both your houses…_ " Amorette mumbled as she took back her script and glanced down at the now marked lines that Mercutio spoke in the play. "How ironic."

"Oh Amorette stop being so glum about it all! It's just a little fun and we don't even know if we will be presented before the King. It occupies the Queen in her time of restlessness," cried Claude.

Constance frowned. "Claude I hope you realise that all of those costumes will be useless to us if this is to be performed for the King. It's against the law for a woman to dress as a man. I don't mind trying things on and sharing a laugh amongst just us ladies but parading about the palace in men's breaches is only going to cause more trouble than its worth."

Claude flapped her hands in annoyance. "Don't you think I know that Constance; but as you rightly said it's all for fun. We may try whatever we want on in these locked rooms and no one will be any the wiser. For goodness sake, both of you need to go and fetch a glass of wine and lighten up!"

An hour and many glasses of wine later, the group had given their line rehearsal a break and were rummaging through the costume trunks unashamedly. A few of the more reserved women had chosen to remain behind in the hall whilst, Constance, Claude, Alice Clerbeaux and the Baronne de Villenuve began to root though the costume trunks in a dressing room across the corridor from the hall. They were the second group to come and pick out costumes but there were still many coloured shirts and well sewn breaches still left. Constance collected the best women's costume and tucked it under her arm to save for the Queen in the firm belief that _Juliet_ should outshine them all no matter the cost. Amorette had rolled her eyes at the sight of the lurid green dress tucked under her friends arm. It might have been the best, but it also happened to be the largest costume there. The Queen's ever expanding bump was surely going to hinder the young woman for much of the play and cause havoc with moving about, but no one else seemed overly concerned. Amorette hoped sincerely that Claude was right and that no one ever saw their vile and unashamedly weak interpretation of what was now becoming renowned as a wonderful love story and a piece of art due to the playwright's word weaving skills.

Oddly, Amorette found it rather freeing to slide out of her dress and corset and pull on breaches and a men's shirt alongside her two closest female friends. No doubt the copious glasses of wine had encouraged their now giggling antics as they all trouped back into the hall and began to swing about wooden toy swords that the Dauphin and his little friends often played with.

Claude stopped suddenly at one point, as her gaze fell upon Amorette. "You know, in a strange way the clothes actually suit you Amorette. With a hat I think you'd look quite fetching!"

Amorette laughed. "Don't let Athos hear you saying that!"

Some of the women took the script reading quite seriously indeed. Constance tried to maintain a level of concentration even as she caught Claude and Amorette's eyes every so often and smirked. The Queen too resolved to try and perform as best she could as _Juliet_ to Claude's _Romeo_ , but Claude found the whole debacle rather too funny as did Amorette. They laughed in all the places that they shouldn't, and couldn't help making snide impersonations of the other women who took it all far too seriously. The scene that Amorette actually admired most from the play was the beginning of Act two, where _Romeo_ came upon the garden where he caught sight of _Juliet_ at her balcony. Claude though, was entirely ruining the wonderful piece of literature for everyone with her shocking attempt at acting.

Amorette watched on, slightly perplexed that no one else seemed to see what she did as Claude threw her arms out to gesticulate wildly with her hands, and suddenly Amorette could take no more.

"… _As Daylight doth a lamp: her eye in heaven_

 _Would through the airy region stream so bright,_

 _That birds would sing, and think it were not-"_

"Are you really going to do it like that?" Amorette blurted out suddenly.

Claude turned towards her on an agonisingly slow pivot, glaring at her as if Amorette had just stolen one of her children from her. "Like what?"

Amorette stood up and reached out her hand for Claude's script as she crossed the hall. "With all of that rather gay flamboyance? You don't need to overcompensate for the lack of real movement within this scene Claude. The words themselves are blooming flowers. To project and play them too much makes it rather comical and unbelievable I think."

"You think?" Claude growled. "Why don't you show us how you would do it then, since you are the expert on these matters! I thought we'd agreed this was just a little bit of fun this evening?"

Amorette sighed heavily as Claude thrust the script into her outstretched hand. "I'm no expert Claude but I was married to a playwright and he had many actor friends. I saw them in rehearsal and on stage. I've also seen _Romeo and Juliet_ played at the Globe in London in my youth. I just think if you tamed it a little, it might come across far better!"

"Now who's taking it seriously," mocked Claude. "Well go on then, show us what you mean."

Amorette was left standing alone in the middle of the hall with only the Queen for company as Claude retreated to the side-lines. Amorette glanced around her at the room as all eyes fell upon her, waiting to see if she could prove herself. She tried to recall watching Fabien with his actor friends and how he had coached them to let the words themselves do the talking and not to overbear them. Sucking in a heavy breath, she threw an apprehensive glance towards the Queen before she began to speak.

" _o! That I were a glove upon that hand!_

 _That I might touch that cheek!"_

A few of the ladies let out quiet giggles as the Queen suppled, _"Ah me!"_

" _O, speak again, bright angel! For thou art_

 _As glorious to this night, being o'er my head,_

 _As is a wingèd messenger of heaven_

 _Unto the white, upturnèd, wondering eyes_

 _Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him_

 _When he bestrides the lazy-puffing clo-"_

Claude tore the script out of Amorette's hands again. "Yes, yes alright Cometess, I think we get the picture. That was… well… never mind. I think I'll revise my performance somewhat."

Amorette grinned in spite of herself. "She knows you spoke far better than she did," supplied Constance in her ear as Amorette returned to her seat.

"I hope she doesn't take offence," muttered Amorette. "I just couldn't stand by and watch her make a hash of it."

"I think we've all had enough wine!" Claude announced to the group rather loudly.

"Some more than others," Constance whispered.

"So let's not try any more of the seriously romantic scenes," Claude continued. "Why don't we try the street fight and have some fun with it for goodness sake!"

"Are you very upset with me?" Amorette asked Claude as they took their places side by side, facing off against Alice Clerbeaux as _Tybalt_.

Claude snorted. "Why would I be upset? For heaven's sake Amorette it's just a play that no one else will ever likely see! I can understand why you'd want that particular scene done properly. Tonight is all about fun though. Let's forget all about it!"

They played on, each line becoming more comical as they forced themselves to remain standing. More wine had been brought out and the Queen had given up entirely and was curled up on a couch at the side of the hall.

"… _A plague o'both your houses!_

 _They have made worms' meat of me: I have it,_

 _And soundly too. Your Houses!"_

Amorette collapsed against the far wall as she pretended to die, a red handkerchief from one of the trunks held in her hand to symbolise the blood of _Mercutio's_ wound. She let out a roar of laughter as she caught Constance's eye and turned to slip out of the door towards the dressing room again. She had lifted her folded dress and corset from the chair with the thought to dress again now that her character had been slain for the evening, when the feather plumes of some hats caught her eye. She recalled Claude's earlier words to her and dropped her clothing again to approach the large costume trunk that resembled more of a wardrobe when it was stood on its end and leaning against the wall. When open, it really was a wardrobe, with a compartment at the top where the hats were held and a separate section where the dresses were hanging from hooks.

Amorette pulled out one of the hats and placed it upon her head, tucking her hair up underneath it. She turned back into the room and in the candlelight she strained to see her reflection in the windows. Although not very clear at all from the other side of the room, her wine inhibited mind thought the hat did look rather fetching indeed. The thought occurred to her that she could keep it, for these trunks had been locked up for years and were not held to account. The hat was old fashioned though, and Amorette could find one of similar fashion that would fit her better in any of the Paris boutiques if she looked hard enough.

She returned to the trunk and began to stuff the hat into the compartment she had pulled it from, but it seemed everything else within it had expanded a little in its absence so that the hat was refused entry. Standing upon the very tips of her toes Amorette gave the hat a good hard shove and it slotted into place but very quickly the trunk began to move. It lurched forwards and Amorette let a scream tear from her throat as very quickly with a heavy thud everything descended into darkness. Lying with her back against the floor and the trunk on top of her, Amorette told herself to breathe normally. She kicked out at the back of the trunk in the hopes that someone would hear her, but she knew one of the ladies would come looking for her eventually.

The darkness was not an inviting one, with the smell of stale starched linens, mothballs and some other odd fragrance that she couldn't quite discern. Amorette yelled for help as she pushed with all the strength that she had against the trunk. It didn't budge at all. She would be stuck there until someone came to fetch another costume. She resigned herself to a wait and lay there for a time, willing herself not to fall asleep after so much wine. After what felt like an age she began to feel around in the dark for perhaps a discarded toy sword or the like to use to push against the trunk when her hand slipped across something rather slimy. Amorette recoiled immediately, terrified that she had come across a rodent or bug of some kind. Gingerly, she reached out her hand again in the general direction of the object and felt it again. She willed herself not to recoil this time and instead spread her hand out, trying to get a feel of what was clearly no rodent or bug. It did not move or breathe or wriggle, and as Amorette counted first one, two, then three spindly, skeletal, slimy fingers of a hand she let out a terrified scream as she realised what was trapped in the trunk with her.

She kicked out against the trunk as a madwoman might do, beating it with her fists and screaming louder than she had ever screamed in her life. Her mind starting to panic, she thought she could feel the skeletal hands crawling all over her face as beads of perspiration broke out on her forehead and in the hollow between her breasts. She clawed at the material of one of the dresses until she managed to manoeuvre it in-between herself and the skeletal hand just as something suddenly thumbed the side of the trunk.

Amorette kicked and punched all parts of the trunk that she could reach again as she screamed, "GET ME OUT!"

"Cometess?" asked a familiar voice.

"Aramis get me out!" Amorette roared as the tears of relief sprang from her eyes to cascade down her cheeks.

"Amorette we'll get you out in just a moment," came his reply as Amorette heard another voice floating above her.

A shaft of light appeared from beneath the trunk as Porthos groaned loudly. Gradually the light grew until two arms reached underneath the side of the trunk and pulled Amorette clear. Porthos dropped it down to the floor again with a loud thud.

"Bloody hell, that thing ways a lot," gasped Porthos.

A cloud of dust was disturbed and floated up into the air around them as Amorette clutched onto Aramis' arms tightly. "Amorette it's alright," Aramis whispered gently as he tightened his grip around her shoulders. "You're out now! How the hell did you end up underneath it anyway?"

Amorette was still sobbing and Aramis gave her a little shake as a shadow crossed the threshold.

"What on earth…?" cried Athos as he looked from Amorette's distressed face to Porthos who was leaning against the side of the heavy trunk.

"You… you don't…understand," Amorette spluttered as she pointed at the trunk. "…I…in there!"

Aramis and Porthos shared a look as Athos approached and placed a hand either side of her waist and pulled her to her feet. Athos then moved as if to approach the trunk and Amorette pulled him back so that she could settle herself between his arms. He threw concerned look down at her as Aramis and Porthos grabbed onto the leather handles placed on either side of the trunk and began to pull it upwards towards the wall again.

Amorette let out a yelp as the still decomposing skeletal corpse that she had dislodged with her kicking and punching from the inside shot forward amidst a wrapping of dresses and shirts to land on the floor.

"My God…" mumbled Porthos.

"How did no one find that?" Aramis asked no one in particular. He turned back to a still crying Amorette. "How did you get underneath it Madam? Porthos even struggled to lift it off the ground on his own!"

"It wasn't on the ground!" Amorette gasped. "It was leaning against the wall. Whoever left it like that is a fool!"

"We left it lying flat on the ground Madam," called D'artagnan where he stood in the doorway. The noise had distracted those who had inhabited the hall and a crowd of ladies including the Queen now stood behind the youngest musketeer, trying to peer over his shoulder.

"Someone moved it deliberately then," announced Athos as he turned his gaze on Amorette. He lifted a hand to gently caress her cheek in a much different way than he had done the evening before. "Are you alright Amorette?"

She nodded briskly, trying to force her gaze away from her companion from within the trunk. "If that was set to fall, it wasn't for me. Or at least, they underestimated my size. I was just short enough to fit into it. For anyone not a great deal taller than me it would have cleaved their head off."

Aramis crouched to look at the mass of old fashioned dresses and shirts on the floor, with the gruesome skeleton ensconced within the musty material. "I expect the mothballs and stale scents of the clothes masked the smell," he mused. He tugged the doublet that the corpse still wore. "This looks to be-"

"A Spanish uniform," Amorette finished for him. The marksman nodded his agreement.

"More importantly," Athos said too quietly for anyone else but Amorette to hear, "What on earth are you wearing Amorette?"

Amorette was still blushing at the thought of Athos' curious gaze as his eyes had raked over her masculine costume a while later as she entered her chambers and held the door open for her friends to follow.

"When D'artagnan arrived I just assumed you were with Athos," Constance informed her sadly. "I should have come to check on you Amorette! I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault Constance," Amorette supplied thickly as she reached for a decanter. "Drink anyone? I'm having a brandy!"

Her two friends procured a glass each and Amorette poured them all a drink. Claude then rummaged in a cupboard until she found a weak wine and presented a glass to the Queen.

"What does all of this mean though?" Claude asked eventually. "The looks on the musketeers faces and marching us all back here so swiftly."

"The palace will be on lock down," confirmed Constance and Amorette nodded.

"This was no accident Claude. That body was deliberately placed there!"

"Amorette how on earth could this be anything more than a sick joke at the very most?" Claude cried.

The other three women gaped at her. Amorette stood up and poured herself a brandy. "Claude you have to understand that the Louvre is no longer safe! That corpse in that trunk was deliberately placed not as a horrible and nasty joke but was a warning from Spain; that they can get in and out of the Louvre Palace undetected. This is it now. Things are going to descend into chaos quite rapidly."

"I expect we'll be stuck on this side of the palace for quite some time," mused Constance.

Claude grimaced. "I suppose our only comfort is company and the fact that Amorette always has a well-stocked drinks cabinet!"

Amorette and Constance tried to smile, but they all still felt a little shaken by what had happened a little earlier. The other women had been very distressed; all with the exception of Alice Clerbeaux who had taken charge of the situation and managed to herd them all back into the hall where they were still being held even now. Amorette found it very difficult to believe any of them had been in some way responsible for the rotting corpse in the trunk but they had all had access to the trunks at some point over the course of the evening and so she understood the need to ensure any valuable information that they had was retrieved as soon as possible.

The Queen had immediately been removed from the vicinity and had swiftly requested the presence of the three ladies who now accompanied her. Amorette's rooms had been swiftly searched by the Queen's own guard before they were locked inside to await more news. Every so often they heard the sound of furniture being dragged as the Queen's apartments on the floor below were methodically searched. The sense of fear within the Palace would be heightened by now, Amorette knew. Any one of the ladies within that hall could have ended up buried beneath that trunk earlier and they might not have been so lucky. Amorette was almost sure she was one of the shortest and had slotted into the trunk as it fell very well indeed.

The Queen on the other hand, who was tall and slim and six months pregnant might not have fared so well. That was the reason for all of the commotion downstairs but Amorette couldn't yet be sure in her own mind whether the corpse in the trunk had in itself been intended to maim or kill; or had been meant for the purpose that it had really served. The warning had been swiftly heeded though. The king would also now be ensconced within locked rooms with his guard on high alert.

The Queen was growing tired, Amorette could tell, but seemed adamant to sit with her three friends as they tried to discuss innocuous topics of conversation as they continued to drink. A heady mixture of alcohol had ensured that Amorette and Claude were entirely intoxicated and perhaps more in need of sleep than anyone else, and Constance although not too far behind them in that regard had at least managed to maintain some of her composure. At length though, Claude's rather open minded views led them down a worrisome path that had all four women roaring with hysterical laughter as they discussed slightly more improper things.

"…But of course the first time with Sacha was nothing at all like lying with my husband," Claude mused gently. "My husband is not cruel or demanding but he does like to rush things rather. He's no sooner lifted my skirts than he's scurrying out of the door again! I think I was lucky to marry him so young you know-"

"What age were you again?" interrupted the Queen.

"I was fifteen," continued Claude as she giggled and her jerky movement had droplets of brandy spilling onto her lap. "Thirteen years of marriage and we have very little to show for it apart from the children. For the first few years the man's odd behaviour had me thinking that I was doing something wrong, that it was all somehow my fault. The thing was though, that men still flirted with me and praised me. I couldn't understand why my husband was so keen to do his duty and be free of me. I was relieved when the children began to be born and eventually the marital relations fizzled out altogether. I eventually came to realise that it was more his fault than mine. If he'd made more of an effort with me then I might not have thought so ill of myself. It taught me things though; that is the tediousness of the act showed me I needed more in my life. Sacha gives that to me and then some!"

Amorette snorted. "Claude I don't think we want to know what Sacha gives you! Besides, you are both my friends so I really don't need the mental image."

"There were other lovers you know," Claude exclaimed brightly. "None like Sacha though. God I've never felt so alive. Things could never be boring with him if you know what I mean. I think sometimes affairs are rather needed in life."

Amorette choked on her drink. "Should you really be encouraging that Claude?"

Constance was shaking her head in amused disdain. "Well I for one am perfectly happy without the need of an extra marital affair! Claude you shouldn't think that everyone has been through what you have."

The Queen, who had yet to offer up her opinion on that particular topic finally sat forward a little. Of them all, she was the only one who retained most of her composure having nursed a weak wine for most of the evening and when she spoke it was with a disguised and refined sadness.

"Unfortunately Madam Morreaux is right," sighed the Queen. "I've watched many an unhappy marriage unfold before my eyes both here and at Spanish court. It's difficult to understand as a young woman growing up around all of the pomp and ceremony that suitors don't want to marry you because you are a princess who is beautiful and willing to try for love. Before you are even old enough to comprehend it well enough you are married off to a man who only sees you as a piece of land or a bag of gold. It's even harder to understand how easy it is to become lonely and isolated within a marriage that should have been the making of your life."

Claude nodded, a solemn expression suddenly gripping her for a few seconds before she let it drop. "Unfortunately we must make the most of what is given to us."

Amorette felt her cheeks glowing red. "I feel bad listening to you both talk so. I was never forced into any such situation. In effect, I suppose I am ahead of my time in that I was able to choose not to marry for such a long time, and then was able to make my own choices when the right man did come along. If not for Fabien, I don't know what I'd have done really. He taught me so much. I do not think that Athos and I could have the relationship that we do without my being married for a short period before. I've never really spoken about this, but I don't think I could… you know.. with Athos if I hadn't already been with someone else beforehand. I'd have been worried about my own abilities."

Claude grinned at her. "You mean you wouldn't have been able to let him impale you upon his musket?" She waggled her eyebrows as Amorette's face turned puce. "For goodness sake Amorette stop being such a prude about it all! We're all friends here and we are all women of the world. What's it like anyway? You never say?"

Amorette shook her head knowingly. "I'm not doing this!"

"Why don't I start," queried the Queen with an upturned grin. "My extra marital affair with someone who shall remain unnamed for reasons of security," Constance and Amorette exchanged a glance, "Is wondrous. He is so loving, so unbelievably tender. I wish we had more time together though. I am a Queen and I am not permitted the things that perhaps even you all take for granted. I want to lie in bed with him on a sunny afternoon discussing literature and poetry with the shutters thrown wide open. I want to eat on the floor before the fire in our night things and not care who might burst into the room. He speaks to me in Spanish when we are alone together you know. After so many years not hearing a word of my mother tongue it's so liberating to hear it in such moments of intimacy and passion."

Constance smiled sheepishly. "I think that's probably a good way to describe what I have. D'artagnan and I are very happy. There's this thing he does…" Constance blushed and shook her head to signal an end to her sentence.

The Queen nudged her gently. "Constance, speak freely with us! You cannot start a sentence like that and not finish it."

Claude closed her eyes as she prepared herself to speak again, as if not seeing her friends faces meant she wasn't really telling them her secret. "When D'artagnan and I are alone, he quite likes me wearing my brace of pistols. In fact, he likes me to hold a pistol whilst we…you know. He said I should feel empowered by it. I do."

"That means he trusts you implicitly," mused Amorette. The others nodded.

"As for me," announced Claude, "Well I think you all know I'm happy with Sacha. He challenges me as I had never thought a man would; in a good way. I'm not ashamed to say that I think that we have the best sex imaginable. There's just nothing like it in the world, with his weight on top of me and his hand around my throat; choking me whilst we-"

"What?" Amorette roared incredulously.

 _ **Let's be honest, Claude's that friend that we all want to have. I think sometimes you need that brutal and bluntly honest person who has no filter. I think she's actually quite a good influence for someone like Amorette who's ahead of her time if not a little prudish. The liberty and self confidence that Claude has should be sold by the bottle!**_


	61. Chapter 61

_**I only own Amorette.**_

"Oh don't be so coy Amorette!" Claude cried. "You can feign your innocence all you like but after all we have all seen Athos! I imagine he's quite brutish in bed actually."

Amorette's mind had jarred. She felt incredibly nauseous all of sudden as the vision of her father with his hand around her throat swam before her eyes. She tried to shake it off as her airways constricted but the image became distorted, with her face turning into her mother's. She gasped for breath and clutched the arm rest of the couch as she tried to pull herself back into the room towards the manic laughter of her three friends.

The distorted vison eventually began to fade and Amorette felt her lungs expand again. Claude was still chattering animatedly with the Queen, Amorette's discomfort entirely unnoticed by her but Constance gave Amorette a wary glance. Amorette gave her a single nod to let her know that she was alright.

"Personally I can't think of anything worse," Amorette mused as the conversation still carried on around her.

"Everyone has different tastes though Amorette," supplied Constance. "Just because Claude likes it doesn't mean you should."

"You didn't agree or disagree with me Amorette," added Claude with a wink. "is he a brute or not?"

Amorette sighed heavily, still trying to recover from the revelation that something that struck fear and terror into her heart was something that Claude found appealing within the confines of a sexual relationship. "I don't know about a brute if I'm honest. I suppose Fabien was very gentle and careful. It was almost as if he knew that he was schooling me for want of a better word. It's rather different with Athos. He's gentle of course when he wants to be, but I don't think we ever have much time for carefulness. I suppose perhaps you would think him a brute, Claude. Athos doesn't waste much time in taking what he wants. I suppose I rather like that having been alone for so long. We danced around each other for such a silly amount of time so it seems senseless to waste more time now. I've got no complaints though."

Amorette finally felt the panic of the moments before begin to fade as she recalled the events of that very morning with Athos. Her cheeks began to heat as she offered a small smile to her friends.

"I always had the notion Athos might have been quite authoritative," mumbled Claude.

Amorette shook her head bemusedly. "We don't usually have much time for talking when we are that way inclined. I think perhaps he's been a little worried about how I would react to it in the past. This morning though, I think authoritative would definitely describe him. I think I'm still coming to terms with it really but he was upset that I seem to still be holding back when it comes to trusting him entirely."

"Well he did marry your sister," Constance said stiffly. "I think men perhaps forget sometimes just how self-conscious women are when it comes to things like that. He did love Milady very much, so in your mind you are always comparing yourself to her. You shouldn't Amorette, as I can't imagine you being similar to her in any which way, but it's just in the nature of a woman to worry about such things."

"He needs to remember that you are also a little younger than him!" said the Queen. "You've gone through much heartbreak with the death of your husband and had to adapt very quickly. Athos should take into account that you've always had rather a lot on your mind Amorette. Of course you both need to be open with each other and talk everything over properly."

Amorette rolled her eyes in irritation. "I think nothing would make Athos happier than talking everything through. I'm not naturally the talking type though. There's still a lot I suppose we should discuss but I just don't know how to make sense of it all and put it into words."

"Tell him that then," said Claude. "Either that or distract him. That wouldn't be hard with those breasts of yours!"

Amorette let herself laugh at her friend's uncouthness and stood up to pour herself another drink. Taking note of the darkness beyond the windows, Amorette realised just how very late it must be. She looked around at her three friends and solemnly realised that they all looked as exhausted as she felt. Amorette glanced at the freshly poured drink in her hand and sighed heavily. She wondered vaguely whether it was a good or bad idea to have another drink even as she lifted the glass to her lips and took a small sip. They'd likely be barricaded in her rooms for a few hours longer and Amorette was certain they would all be asleep within a short while. Amorette immediately offered the Queen her bed as she couldn't imagine how uncomfortable it must be to sleep sitting up upon a couch whilst with child.

With the Queen ensconced in Amorette's bed chamber the three ladies huddled together on one couch with a thick fur counterpane draped over themselves. Amorette had placed the stopper back in the decanter and placed it back upon the side table. Together they sipped at glasses of water as the firelight grew lower and lower.

The silence was a strangely comfortable one given the events of the day and for Amorette, the day before. Just as Amorette felt herself beginning to drift off into sleep Claude let out a short bark of laughter.

"I've just realised!" she gasped. "What a sight must we look! Drunk out of our minds and dressed in men's clothes!"

There was a second of silence as the three women stared at each other before they burst into hysterical laughter. Amorette tore off the fur and kicked her legs that were still wrapped in men's breeches.

"I wonder how Athos would feel if I wore the trousers in the relationship once or twice?" she announced as her two friends fell into a fit of giggles. Claude laughed openly and raucously whilst Constance buried her laughter in the corner of the fur counterpane.

"I don't think D'artagnan would appreciate it if I returned home like this!" Constance cried. "I should change before I leave!"

Claude was grinning mischievously. "I rather think Sacha will like my new look actually."

"Hmmm…" mused Amorette. "Why do I get the feeling it wouldn't be the first time he's seen you in breeches Claude?"

"Because it wouldn't be!"

All three of them fell into a fit of giggles again, shushing each other as they remembered the Queen who slept in the next room.

Amorette woke with a start to find gentle hands trying to wake her. Athos hovered above her in the near dawn light and offered her a grim smile. She glanced sideways at her two friends to find Constance already awake, likely at the hands of D'artagnan and she was now gently shaking Claude.

"Where's the Queen?" Athos muttered quietly.

"In my bed, I'll go and wake her," Amorette sleepily mumbled as she stood and attempted to cross the room towards her bed chamber. The stumbling steps she took reminded her of just how much she had drank the evening before and she grimaced as she imagined Athos watching her from behind.

The Queen woke from her light sleep easily enough and Amorette guided her back into the parlour where Constance and Claude were now standing. Amorette had to stifle a laugh as she looked at her two friends. They really were a sorry sight, dressed in men's clothes and slightly dishevelled from sleeping curled up together on the couch. The Queen did not look half as bad as them, with her hair falling in gentle waves and the green costume from earlier still in place. She had worn no corset, but the dress sat well upon her despite the fact that she had slept in it. There was a kind of ethereal beauty to the pregnant young woman; Amorette noticed in the cold light of near dawn. Her blonde hair shone in the light of the setting moon and her pale skin glistened slightly as if it were icing sugar.

 _Yes_ , Amorette decided she really did look a sorry sight indeed when a woman who was six month's pregnant could look so beautiful in terrible light and Amorette looked like an old sack next to her.

"Come on Claude," called Constance when the older woman didn't move. "We can walk you back to your rooms on our way now that we can move freely through the Palace."

Claude nodded to acknowledge that she had heard Constance's request but something within her eyes as she gazed at Amorette was a little frightening. Amorette knew as well as anyone what it was to hide one's true feelings from others with a disguise and suddenly she realised that Claude had noticed her discomfort earlier and had masked it to save Amorette any further distress. The slightly tenuous look Claude gave Amorette in that moment affirmed to Amorette that she would never again find a friend like the woman before her now.

Amorette felt Athos' hand gently come to rest upon her shoulder and Claude's eyebrows rose. Amorette nodded to her friend, assuring her that all was well. Claude turned to leave, but upon seeming to think better of it she turned back to Amorette and leaned forward to grab her hand.

"Come and find me tomorrow won't you Amorette. We can talk then; about whatever you like."

Amorette nodded her gratitude and let Claude turn from her to follow the others out into the corridor. With the gentle thud of the door only she and Athos remained in the dimly lit parlour. Something changed within the air, and Amorette was sure that the atmosphere would certainly be hindered when Athos realised just how drunk she was, or closely inspected her body in the men's clothes that she still wore.

To try and avoid any awkwardness and partly also out of curiosity, Amorette latched onto the events of the evening. "Did you find anything on your search?"

Athos shook his head, his eyes taking on a strange sheen as they roved up and down her body. When he eventually spoke, he sounded exhausted. "There was nothing to be found. Judging by the state of decomposition that corpse was in, it could have been placed in that trunk anything up to a week ago. I'm sure a doctor could give us a more accurate opinion if one is called upon to look into it tomorrow morning."

Amorette nodded solemnly as she tugged at the floaty cuff of her borrowed sleeve. "I didn't think there would be. The Spanish aren't fools. I don't suppose you know who placed the trunk like that?"

"We are unsure about that. The harsh truth is that any courtier in the vicinity had access to that trunk. It might have been moved by someone who did not know of its contents. Granted, it was still a foolish thing to do propping it against the wall like that but it could have been harmless. We have to take that option into account. As for how the trunk came to be at all, I'm not entirely certain it's been within the Palace for very long. You know yourself that theatre troupes come and go often enough within Paris and it's not hard to imagine one of them deliberately leaving a trunk of costumes behind on a visit to the palace. On the other hand, that too might have been an accident. What I think is more likely, is that someone took their chance upon an unattended trunk without the knowledge of the theatre troupe."

"I was going to say; the dresses in the drunk didn't look Spanish to me, just a little old fashioned."

Athos shrugged as he leaned against the back of the couch. "Regardless, we will likely never know the culprit. You will know what worries us more about the whole scenario."

"How the corpse came to be inside the Louvre, wearing a Spanish uniform?" Amorette asked as she sank down to sit on the couch gingerly.

She saw Athos frown slightly and he turned to glance at her over his shoulder. "No Amorette. Not right now. It almost flattened you to death! Right now I'm more concerned with securing other large pieces of furniture within the Palace so no one else is hurt or worse! Things like that even do occur as an accident from time to time. There was that incident about four years ago when the Baron de Mores' young daughter was killed when a heavy chest of drawers fell onto her-"

"Oh God!" Amorette gasped, a hand reaching up to cover her mouth instantly as another sickening image flooded her mind.

"Sorry," Athos grimaced. "We've already appealed to the correct marshals and they will begin to check things in the morning."

"So what you mean is, stay away from heavy furniture?" Amorette asked in an attempt at light humour.

"And men's clothing that does nothing at all for you," Athos chuckled dryly.

Amorette smiled sheepishly as she stood up and walked around the couch until she stood before him. "I didn't think you'd approve."

Athos smiled warmly. "I think approve is the wrong word Amorette. I learned a long time ago that you do not require anyone's approval upon any matter. No, these clothes simply are not flattering at all. The shirt is fine," Athos mumbled as his eyes dropped to her breasts that were completely uncontained beneath the shirt. "It's the breaches. I've seen you in riding breaches that were much more slimming and flattering for your form! Those that you wear now would no doubt fit someone four times your size."

Amorette chuckled lightly at his observation and leaned in closer to plant a gentle kiss upon his lips. Athos sighed heavily as his eyes darkened ever so slightly. "I know you're tired," whispered Amorette. "You don't need to tell me. All I really want right now is for you to hold me."

Amorette leaned in further, satisfied to find his arms circling her waist as she leaned against his shoulder. Very quickly though, the moment changed slightly. Athos' hands began to slide lower until he was able to cup her behind gently. "I suppose that is one benefit," he mumbled. "With the heavy skirts of a dress there's no point in trying to locate your derrière!" Amorette swatted his arm slightly as he tightened his hold. Athos chucked lightly as she leaned in to kiss him again. He pulled away after only a few seconds though. "How much have you had to drink?"

Amorette snorted and turned her face away. "More than enough. I think we got a bit carried away earlier, and when we came back here there wasn't much else to do."

Athos smiled lightly at her. "There's nothing wrong with it. You were enjoying yourself. It seemed to keep you all in good spirits anyway."

"perhaps too good," countered Amorette. "Claude's relentless at the best of times but when you add brandy to the mix anything is possible."

"I'm taking it you talked?" Athos asked then, a slight edge to his voice. "She gave you a very strange look when she left?" Amorette shook her head and tried to pull away, but Athos was well versed with Amorette trying to gloss over things and moved his hands up to her waist to hold her in place against him. "Tell me what's bothering you?"

Amorette sighed heavily as she caught his concerned eye. "It's nothing Athos; just something that Claude said earlier."

"And what did Claude say?" His eyes always had that intrinsic way of making Amorette feel like he was attempting to read her thoughts.

"She meant nothing by it, only…" Amorette hesitated as she tried to find the words to explain her thoughts. She wasn't sure how to say it without sounding weak. "She was talking about being choked during sex."

A still silence drew on as Athos' brows furrowed. It appeared he hadn't yet made the connection. "Claude's tastes may be different to yours Amorette. There's nothing wrong with that. It doesn't surprise me really. Your friend really is one of a kind."

Amorette shook her head meekly and took a step back from him. "Am I inadequate with, you know…" Amorette gesticulated wildly as she looked at anything but Athos' face. "I'm not exactly a paragon of knowledge and I don't have all of these tricks up my sleeve. You hear things, about what men like and-"

"Will you stop this?" Athos exclaimed. He stood to his full height and took a step towards Amorette but she backed away another few steps. "Amorette why on earth are you questioning yourself again? What has Claude said to you?"

"It was nothing she said!" Amorette cried indignantly. "I told you she meant nothing by it! I just… it made me think that there may be things that I'm not yet prepared to try and I may be disappointing you!"

Athos buried his head in his hands and shook it. "If I wasn't so tired I would need a drink," he muttered before he glanced back up at her. "Amorette do you really think I'm disappointed; after last night? Besides, I'm not sure if choking is really to my taste either. I've seen many hangings in my time as a soldier. Heavens, I sentenced your own sister; my wife to death by hanging. Granted, I never watched it and she didn't die that day but still… I can see why you'd be a little unnerved by it after your sister and that's alright! These are the kind of things you should discuss with me. Your sister didn't die that day Amorette, as I said. That rope around her neck was cut and she was able to walk away-"

Athos stopped mid-sentence as he suddenly realised that it was not only the matter of her sister's almost death that had crossed Amorette's mind. "Your father," he said after a few seconds. "I didn't think. That's what this is really about isn't it?"

Amorette slowly nodded. "When Claude was talking, I just had these images in my head and the thought of it just makes me sick to my stomach!"

"Why is it so wrong for you to feel like that?" Athos asked abruptly. "It's a perfectly natural reaction to the death of your mother and for what happened between you and your father countless times. Your own father tried to strangle you with his bare hands; for goodness sake Amorette I'd be more worried if you weren't affected by it in some way. That doesn't make you inadequate or lacking in any way. In fact, all that it means is your tastes are more aligned with my own. If there ever is anything new I wanted to try; which there isn't at present, I'd discuss it with you first. I'd ask you about it in the same way that you would ask me if you were so inclined."

"So it doesn't bother you?" she asked tentatively as she took a step closer to him.

"Amorette I'd never even thought about it until you brought all of this up just now." His hand reached out to caress her cheek gently. "Why don't I show you how unbothered I am by it?"

He smirked, but Amorette didn't return the gesture. "Don't you have to be somewhere? I was going to go to Claude or Constance. I don't really want to be on my own tonight."

Athos shook his head. "I've been on duty since first light. Treville won't send for me until well after mid-day."

"Alright," she whispered. Her voice suddenly sounded horse and anticipating as she closed the remaining space between them and stepped into the hand that still rested against her cheek. Lightly she kissed the palm of Athos' hand and looked up at him through her eyelashes longingly.

"I'm not entirely sure how I feel about undressing you tonight. Corsets I can very well do, breeches I'm not so sure about," Athos grumbled and Amorette let a peal of laughter escape her lips as he began to gently push her backwards towards the bed chamber. "There's something to be said for working into the early hours of the morning, making love as the sun comes up!"

When Amorette woke just a few short hours later, it was to a pounding headache and an extremely dry mouth. She let out a crackling cough as she tried to clear her throat and groped in the semi darkness for the glass of water on the table beside the bed. She emptied the whole glass into her mouth and let the lukewarm liquid trail down her throat. The curtains were still closed, but slivers of light between the gaps told her that it was surely mid-morning. She couldn't recall an exact time when they had resigned themselves to sleep, but the sun had been beginning to rise.

Amorette glanced to her left and immediately knew Athos was awake by the shallow breaths he took. His eyes were closed though, a peaceful expression upon his face. "How's your head?" he asked her without opening his eyes.

Amorette groaned. "My head feels like I won't be opening the curtains in a hurry today!" Athos huffed out a laugh and pulled her back to lie against his chest. Amorette very quickly pulled away though to fan her face. She kicked off the counterpane and let the air flow around her but her slight temperature did not decrease. "Don't ever let me drink so much again!" She grumbled.

Athos laughed again. "Like I'd have any say in the matter. You do what you want Amorette. We both know that! Besides, there's nothing wrong with a little over indulgence. Were you not enjoying your evening before all of that business with the trunk?" he asked.

Amorette nodded stiffly, regretting the movement when the room tilted on its axis. "I hope to God that someone's had the good sense to call off that darned play! I mean, _Romeo and Juliet_? Please tell me you see how ridiculous an idea that is? If not then it appears I'm the only one!"

"No I agree with you," Athos said as he tapped her arm lightly. "And it was the Queen's own choice?"

"Apparently so," confirmed Amorette. "For a while now she's been so subdued. When I first came back to Paris she was so daring and sure of herself. She's reverted back to that now it seems."

"As long as she doesn't try to kill you again," Athos mused gently.

"I think that's the least of our worries!"

At length midday came and Athos readied himself to leave. Neither of them were sure if they would see each other again over the course of the next few days, and Amorette was glad in part that her sleeping pattern might resume some normalcy. No matter how ill she felt though, she knew that she needed to see her friends and ensure that they were all well after the events of the previous evening.

Amorette grumbled and procrastinated as Tilda helped her dress and even though it was nowhere near the summer months, Amorette felt suffocated in her corset and dress. She kicked out at the heavy skirts, regretting for a moment that women were condemned to wear such cumbersome items of clothing. At length though she managed to meander her way outside to let the fresh air cool her a little. The gardens were oddly deserted for such a clear day, especially after the terrible weather of the day before. Amorette walked on, feeling a little more at ease now that her headache was beginning to slowly evaporate. The smell of the flowers in the beds that lined the path assaulted her senses and she laughed to herself even as she felt a little nauseous.

She would go and find the Duke of Buckingham in a little while and hope he was in an agreeable mood. He always knew the best spots to fetch a delicious bite to eat in Paris and Amorette could think of nothing better than eating her own body weight in food to feed her hangover. She walked on a little more in the brusque air and began to think of turning back to go in search of Claude and Constance when something caught her eye at the tree line.

Amorette was still a little hesitant about that area of the gardens after Franc had dragged her there in her sleep to try and torture her. Today though, with the branches devoid of leaves and the sky overhead bright, she didn't feel just as nervous. She could clearly see the material of a dress through the trees and thought perhaps another Madam had chosen to take a walk like herself. The rest of the gardens were deserted though and that was what confused Amorette. Why was this other woman so alone outside?

Her question was answered a few seconds later as the Queen emerged from the trees and smiled warily at Amorette. Amorette gave the customary greeting, bending into a curtsey but the Queen waved it away rather quickly.

"come Cometess, there is no need for formalities here when there is no one here to see them. I assure you that we are quite alone out here."

Amorette frowned. The absence of other courtiers was deliberate then. The Queen had wanted to be alone, or was waiting for someone. _Aramis perhaps?_

"Your Majesty if you wish to be alone I can go. I was just about to return to the Palace," supplied Amorette.

The Queen shook her head with a small smile. "No Cometess. Tarry a while if you will. I wished to speak with you alone. After last night, I am sure you will understand why I feel I cannot speak freely within four walls where I think it is not too presumptuous to suspect that we may all be being watched."

Amorette nodded, seeing sense in the Queen's words. "How are you, after last night. I know it was quite a shock for everyone."

"For everyone?" asked the Queen incredulously. "Cometess it was you who was trapped under that trunk! You who found that body! How are you!"

Amorette sighed. "In truth it did not rattle me as much as I thought it would. My thoughts and dreams are already preoccupied with something else lately."

"Nightmares?" the Queen asked tentatively.

Amorette nodded. "I have a recurring dream where I am walking in early morning Paris. I cross one of the bridges and tumble over the side into the river. Just as I hit the water I wake again. I do not understand its meaning, but the dreams are becoming more intense. I no longer walk in the dreams but run, run as if my life depends upon it."

The Queen raised a quizzical brow. "That is quite the conundrum Cometess. I imagine it's quite frightening."

Amorette nodded stiffly. "Athos is with me sometimes, and he soothes me. His presence is enough to dispel the terror," Amorette lied smoothly.

A twig snapped rather loudly and both women turned on instinct in the direction of the sound. There was no one there though.

"Musketeers," announced the Queen quietly. "No matter how alone I wish to be, they will never be that far from me. I take comfort in the knowledge it is likely one of our friends."

Amorette nodded, feeling a strange impulse to turn and run as she remembered the Queen wished to speak with her. "Your Majesty, what is it that you wished to speak with me about?"

"Ah," sighed the Queen. "Well Cometess your resilience last night assured me that I was wrong two years ago to try to have you killed. You have always been so uncompromisingly loyal to me. I need someone like you on my flying squad. You know that." Amorette immediately began to shake her head, knowing what was coming. Even so, her eyes bulged as the Queen produced a folded and wax sealed note from her pocket. "This Cometess, is the name of a man that I need dead. I do not trust many people in France. You are one of very few that I do. I would like you to go to Spain and kill this man."

The Queen held out the note, and Amorette continued to shake her head. "I can't," she attempted to say defiantly, but it came out as more of a muffled sob. "I'm sorry your Majesty but I am no assassin. I cannot do this for you. I appreciate that you trust me, but after what happened last time I cannot be in your employ ever again. You are my Queen and vow to serve and protect, but I no longer want to take on such tasks. I am your friend. I cannot cross that line again. I have friends…a family here in Paris now. I cannot leave that behind. I cannot leave Athos. Surely you understand that?"

The Queen nodded, her hand holding the note still outstretched. "I thought you would refuse."

Amorette bristled a little. "Then why ask?"

The Queen shrugged lightly. "I had to. There is only one other person I would trust to do such a thing for me. I shall approach them in due course." Amorette nodded, instantly wanting nothing more than to be free of the woman who had been gaining her friendship again. She dropped to a light curtsey again and turned to walk away, but the Queen spoke again. "This doesn't make you weak you know. In fact, I think it takes strength to refuse me, to walk into the unknown after so long in my employ." Amorette didn't turn around, simply listening to the statement before carrying on up the path away from the Queen.

"What do you suppose that was about?" D'artagnan called from where he stood with his arms crossed, leaning against a tree.

The younger musketeer glanced back towards his older friend who continued to watch Amorette's shrinking form as she marched back up the path towards the Palace. "I sincerely hope it's not what I think it is!" Athos exclaimed.

 _ **Do you think Amorette was right to refuse the Queen? Or is her refusal only going to cause more trouble?**_


	62. Chapter 62

_**Thank you so much for the reviews!**_

 _ **Emilia, ; We'll soon find out if Amorette was right or wrong to refuse the Queen. Thing is, she'd have had to leave Athos behind and she wouldn't have been able to stay by the Queen's side and protect her as a friend would.**_

 _ **Pallysdeeks; Claude's a force to be reckoned with but I do love that she just openly discusses sex. She reminds me of two of my very important and (bad influence) friends who are very uninhibited. We know Amorette has some confidence insecurities and I know first-hand that can be helped by friends who just say what they think and don't care! Personally, I think those kinds of women kick ass!**_

 _ **Roberta Lozano; The affair between Aramis and the Queen is one part of the story I'm undecided on. Everything else is sorted, but I don't know how this affair will play out. I've decided to let my typing fingers do the work on that one so who knows! Some more drunken antics in this chapter, and Buckingham is yet again being a wonderful friend.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

For Amorette, the first week of confinement within the Palace proved a struggle. Whilst some of the courtiers preferred to remain within the Palace boundaries anyway, Amorette had grown accustomed to being able to come and go as she pleased. She had been unable to walk out into the city and see her friends there which disappointed her greatly. The mood within the Palace had descended into restlessness and anxiety. They all knew that the worst was coming, but they just didn't know when.

The King and Queen were making plans to leave Paris behind come the summer months and Amorette hoped that would be enough in itself to deter any Spanish or English revolutionists. A summer progress once their new baby had been born seemed an ideal way to avoid the turbulent atmosphere of Paris but Amorette wasn't sure the Queen was all that agreeable to the plans. Amorette knew that she herself wouldn't want to rush off into the country just after giving birth, but she didn't think that was what was bothering the Queen.

She would have to leave Aramis behind. D'artagnan had told Amorette and Constance that the musketeers had agreed with Treville's view that they should stay behind in Paris to stand guard over the Louvre Palace. Amorette on the other hand, thought there was no one better to ensure the personal safety of the King and Queen whilst they were away from home. Claude and Constance had agreed to go, which Sacha and D'artagnan were secretly glad about, but Amorette was still undecided upon the matter. She had tried to give the Queen a wide berth since their intrigue in the Jardin de Tuileries and felt that months at the Queen's side on a progress would only weaken her resolve when it came to favours.

Athos would of course try to persuade her to go when they finally did see each other again. Every man in Paris who had any social standing was sending his wife and children off with the progress for their safety and Amorette couldn't blame them for it. There was a larger presence of militia at all times across the whole city, each man poised and ready for Spanish attack. Amorette hadn't seen Athos in a week and was resigned to the fact that week might become two or even three. The musketeer regiment was being pulled every which way possible to try and protect the King and Queen, with its most trusted men investigating threats of terrorism alongside the King and Queen's spymasters.

Amorette was not want of anything to do however. The Queen had requested her presence almost every day, and Amorette could tell the other woman was jumpy and stressed. Knowing this was unhealthy for the child that she carried, Amorette and the other ladies who were within the Queen's inner circle encouraged the Queen to rest and distance herself from any kind of frivolous activity. The performance of _Romeo and Juliet_ had been abandoned much to Amorette's relief and they spent their days lounging in the Queen's apartments with the balcony doors thrown open to let in the fresh spring air.

Amorette's nights though, were less occupied. She tried to read late into the night, staying awake as long as she could to try and ward off her dreams, but every so often one of them crept into her mind. Her dreams seemed to be feeding on the stress and worry in the air because in her dream Amorette was more agitated as she ran through the city streets, more frightened and skittish at the same time. She'd taken to venturing out into the cool air upon her balcony when she first woke from her dreams to try and take her mind off what she was seeing, but Amorette was well aware that she was now beginning to disturb other courtiers on the same floor with her waking screams.

"I'm glad you've finally given in and asked me for help Amorette," whispered Claude on their first venture outside the Palace gates one afternoon. They walked arm in arm with Constance, swinging bottles of wine from their hands as they went. "I was beginning to really worry about you being alone at night and feeling so scared. I'd have stayed with you long ago if only you'd asked!"

Amorette grimaced. "Claude you have children to look after! I wouldn't take you away from them just because I've had a few nightmares!"

"What does Athos make of these nightmares?" Constance asked curiously.

Amorette shrugged. "What do you think? He's asked me a few times to ask an apothicaire if there's anything I can take that would help me get a good night's rest here and there but I think he knows its futile to ask me to do anything more. I still want to try and work out what all of these dreams mean and to do that I have to keep letting them into my mind at night. I will admit though that I'm beginning to loose concentration in that. The more stressed I get, the more frightening the dream seems to be. I've been trying to avoid dreaming for the last week or so but they just keep coming."

Claude was shaking her head. "Amorette I didn't realise how bad things were until I stayed with you last night, and I saw your face when you woke. I think you need to do something sooner rather than later!"

Amorette sighed in defeat and nodded. "You're right. You all are. Tomorrow morning I will go in search of some herbal remedy that might help. I would go now whilst we are out, but I think the wine consumption might make me appear to be a little deluded."

Her friends chuckled lightly and they walked on companionable silence for a while and watched the almost deserted Les Halles market close its stalls for the day. It felt odd to be free again after a week of constant consoling and worrying and all three of them had imbibed rather laboriously at the Queen's rather large Luncheon that she had held for all of the ladies of the court. For some it marked the beginnings of excitement and anticipation of months in the country, whilst for others it was somewhat of a farewell for it was likely the last time that all of the ladies would be gathered together in one hall before they all parted ways. Some would likely stay in Paris and refuse their husbands demands to leave, whilst others would travel home to their houses in the country.

Having rather precariously hidden some bottles of wine within the folds of their skirts, the three friends had scuttled away rather quickly when the gong heralded the end of the luncheon and had meandered through the Jardin de Tuileries and out into the city. At length they came to the Quay and Claude persuaded them to sit along the wall and watch the sun as it began to set over the roofs of the Paris buildings. Below them in the dock the sailors and fishermen were finishing for the day, barking orders at lesser shipmen to tie off their boats and clear the decks. They paid no heed at all to the slightly intoxicated young ladies who sat along a low wall with their bottles of wine.

Sacha found them not long after they had taken their seats. "God, how much have you all had?" he cried as he reached them.

"Not nearly enough to release our pent up stress!" exclaimed Claude rather too loudly. "That luncheon was abominably awkward. The old Duchesse d'Harcourt monopolised any woman in the room over thirty and spent the whole time preaching about the modesty and propriety of the court of the King's father! Heavens, can you imagine having to suffer the old crone for any longer than that?"

"Won't you join us Sacha?" Amorette asked as she pointedly ignored Claude's outburst. Whilst the younger ladies of the court had tried to take the Duchesses' rebuffs in good humour, Claude had showed her disdain rather openly. "After all, the only way to ensure that we do not drink any more is to drink it yourself!"

"I'm afraid I can't," said Sacha wearily. "I'm dining with some lawyer friends of mine tonight and I can't get out of it. You'll be safely within the Palace by the time it grows dark though won't you all?" he asked pointedly. They all chorused their agreement and Sacha shook his head knowingly. "I do mean it you know! I'm headed into the Latin Quarter so I might call in at the garrison and ask a musketeer to make sure you all get back before dark!"

"Spoil sport," muttered Constance.

Amorette grinned at her friend who hardly ever spoke in such a way. "We'll be fine Sacha!" she called up to him. "We will carry on the party in my rooms once the light begins to wane!"

Sacha nodded, seeming to trust Amorette's words more than he would have if Claude had said them. "You'd best! Don't forget about the gate curfew! Once those gates are shut you'll all be locked out for the evening!"

Claude let out a bark of laughter. "Oh yes it's such a shame that none of us three lonely women know of a man who currently resides outside the Palace gates isn't it?"

Sacha seemed to give up then, pulling the strap of his satchel higher on his shoulder and fixing his hat. "I'll be going then," he announced as he ignored Claude's last statement. "Cometess, I've finished looking at those papers of yours by the way. We should discuss them together soon. I think I've a few amendments to your estate paperwork that you should make."

Amorette nodded her agreement swiftly, having forgotten all about the fact that she had asked Sacha to look into her financial affairs. "Tomorrow? We can have dinner, as long as your lover permits it?"

Claude snorted. "Oh it's permitted Madam! We all know your taste is not for the clean cut lawyers of Paris!"

With that Sacha doffed his hat to them and meandered into the thinning crowds crossing the bridge. "I hope he wasn't serious when he said he'd call in at the garrison," Amorette groaned.

"He means well," Constance mumbled. "He's right about heading back though. I don't particularly like the idea of being here much longer once it starts to get dark."

Claude let out a disgruntled sigh. "There's no enjoyment to be had in this city anymore! Spain is sucking the life out of Paris. We are all so afraid to turn around the next corner that we have forgotten that this is Paris! This is France. We should carry on our lives as best we can, not shirk away and hide until all of this has blown over!"

Amorette nodded. "I hear you Claude, but that's easier said than done. This is not just about the people of Paris any more, it's about the King and Queen. It's about all of France! We have to toe the line. If the musketeers say that we must stay locked within the Palace, then we do as we are instructed. We can't take risks anymore and we must also be careful what we speak of when inside the Palace. I think now more than ever it's likely that the walls there have eyes and ears. We should be instructing others to do the same!"

It was remarkable how within only a few days, the whole pinnacle of life at Paris court had changed so intrinsically. Whereas before it had been gossip and intrigue that was the rule of play, now the halls were entirely silent and the gardens deserted. Amorette had discussed with the Queen at length the best way to explain to the female courtiers how to regulate what they spoke of, and of who they let into their rooms late at night. Most of the women were smart enough to heed such instruction rather quickly, with some immediately making plans to return to their homes in the country with the sudden fear that their love affairs would become public knowledge.

Amorette had taken to checking the balcony doors and all of the windows several times a day when in her rooms to ensure they were locked, and hoped her friends did the same every evening before they went to bed. She would have been far more comfortable if Athos had been with her every night, but Amorette wasn't about to drag him away from important work because she was having trouble sleeping at night. When she did pass him in the hallway or they snatched a few moments together in the gardens, he seemed tired and overwrought, but he always met her with that familiar and unusual smile that she strangely felt sure was reserved just for her.

The tense and coarse atomosphere drove Amorette out into the streets more often than any of her other female friends who preferred to stay indoors. Buckingham's lodgings were again occupied and Amorette felt strangely relaxed within her old friend's company as he regaled her with tales of his recent exploits. There was something not quite right about the Englishman though, and Amorette had presumed that it was down to the fact that Parisians were wary of anyone who was not French within their city. All of Buckingham's friends had gone home to England when they had realised that there was a chance Paris could fall, leaving only the resolute duke behind.

"I just can't help thinking that they deserted a good cause," he muttered as he sipped his brandy. "I want to prove to France that the England I know has nothing to do with all of this. Granted, your father might have gotten himself mixed up in all of this Amorette, but it was not on the King's orders. The King of England has enough to deal with right now without alienating France too."

"Perhaps you should go home," Amorette supplied meekly. "If only for your own safety."

Buckingham laughed hollowly. "Amorette if I asked you to leave Paris, wold you?"

Amorette shook her head quickly. "No, but George Paris is my home and my family is here. Well, not my actual family but they are as good as. I know you've a hankering to be at home in England too now that upstart Cromwell is causing problems. You don't have to stay just to prove that you're brave and true."

"Once all of this is over I will go home," said Buckingham. "You're right about Cromwell but I get almost daily reports. It's being well handled. Men like your father are holding him off well."

Amorette rolled her eyes. "I'm never going to feel comfortable with you praising that man."

"You never did tell me why he was arrested. I know a few Englishmen who tried to visit him and were denied access. Why?"

"That was a direct order from Treville. No English visitors. He'd have used that to play some other trick."

Buckingham moved around the room and placed a gentle hand on Amorette's shoulder. "I understand that whatever it is that he's done this time is more than likely hurting you just as much as he's always done but you are going to need to develop a way to talk to people about it Amorette."

She sighed heavily, leaning into his touch a little as if it would strip back the years until they were just children again, when Henry had still been their true friend and when her mother and even Lyall Fitzgerald had still been alive; with nothing to overly cause worry apart from their mud-stained clothing from brisk rides and frolics in the countryside.

"It's easier to try and forget it George," she mused. "To pretend that none of it happened and that my life here is all that ever was."

Buckingham moved to perch himself on the table in front of her and fixed her with an unwavering gaze. "You can't forget Amorette. Your father is a cold coward and a bully. Your mother let him develop those traits even further and she committed the worst crime possible in letting him hurt you. That won't change no matter how much you push it away. It won't change the fact that Lyall is dead at your father's hands. I'll not pretend to be sorry about that because I never liked the man and you didn't either. Henry won't be too grieved that the brother he hated all his life is dead." Buckingham moved forward a little when Amorette didn't raise her head to look at him. He placed his hands gently over hers and held them tightly. "Amorette tell me what else there is that I don't know. You know I'll respect the fact you don't want anyone else to know and won't breathe a word of it to anyone."

 _How to frame those words_ , Amorette wondered. It had actually been easier in the heat of the moment when she had been before her father to say it out loud. Now in the ominous silence it almost felt wrong to speak of it, to give his deeds the recognition that her father had always desired in secret.

"George I don't want to talk about this in any great depth, but I will tell you what I know. Don't ask me to explain it please and whatever you do, don't tell Henry Fitzgerald."

Amorette watched Buckingham's face pale a little. "Is this about your mother? I know Henry loved her dearly."

Amorette nodded, her breath catching in her throat as she tried to prevent her tears. Oddly, they never came. It was as if she had cried too much over the last few weeks to dry up her tears forever. "My father killed Lyall, and for that Henry would like to kill him. My father committed other crimes though. If Henry knew the truth then I don't think I'd manage to talk him down again. There would be no reasoning with him."

Buckingham's hands slipped from hers and Amorette watched as he drew back from her, shock clearly settling in. "He killed your mother?"

"I'm actually surprised you didn't figure that one out George. You are so clever that it's odd you missed it."

Buckingham buried his head in his hands as he gently shook it. "How did I not know? I'll tell you how. I thought your mother wanted her own life to end. I thought when death came to her that she welcomed it as an old friend. I thought her weak and scared. I never told you Amorette but I always thought that she'd abandoned you in a way. I resented her for it in a strange sort of way, even as I felt enormous sympathy for her."

Amorette nodded, completely understanding her friend's thought process. "I suppose I felt like that too for a time when I was younger. I didn't resent her for it though. If it was death that she had desired, I was glad that she was finally at peace. My father could not torment her anymore and for that I was glad. Then there was the realisation that my father could have killed her. I battled with it so much because I didn't want to believe he really could sink that low. I wanted to at least believe there was some part of his deep, dark, decrepit heart that really did love my mother in some way. That was a foolish notion. He was driven by money and greed, always will be. I always knew really that he had done it, but I never let myself think upon it. It was almost as if I had conditioned my own thoughts into a large trunk in the back of my mind and locked it so that I could never delve there again. I kept it all to myself."

"I'm assuming Athos doesn't know then? I heard that Treville handed Lord Barclay over to the Red Guards and I can't imagine Athos doing that if he knew the truth."

Amorette smiled slightly. "He does know actually. I think he fought so hard to remain calm and controlled George and for that I love him even more. He knew that to react with hate and violence against my father would only have made matters worse in the long run. He wants to talk about it though; about my mother. I don't know if I'm ready."

"Amorette you know as well as I do that there's never going to be harmony between the musketeers and I," exclaimed Buckingham. "But I am willing to admit that when it comes to things like this, Athos behaves more sensibly than I. I'm sure he understands therefore that it upsets you still. I do not think that he expects you to tell him absolutely everything right now. You don't have to go through all of that. Just tell him things little and often, as and when you can. When you feel comfortable talking about it then do, and when you begin to feel you need stop that's fine. I'm not saying tell him next to nothing for another eleven years but I think if you were to at least try to tell him something, that would placate him. After all, how are you both to really make things work if you cannot talk?"

Amorette as ever saw the sense in Buckingham's words, but was not sure how Athos would handle it if she decided she would only tell him things here and there. "When I said Athos was calm and composed in regards to my father, I think it was because he knew how much it would hurt me to see him so angry and unhinged. I also think he was worried that if he lashed out that I would fear him in some way. He was trying so very hard to separate himself from men like my father. I'm grateful for that. He is not so well composed when it comes to our relationship though. He's been growing impatient recently for me to disclose everything and I'm not ready for that. He needs me to though and I think if I can only manage to discuss it lightly at small intervals he will eventually give up.

Buckingham shook his head slightly and Amorette could tell he didn't quite understand her. "George Athos has been so very good to me! He's understood so well that I'm still trying to heal psychological wounds inflicted upon me throughout my life but there is only so much waiting one man can do. I can readily admit now that I've been a nightmare for him to court. I've been a foolish chit chasing around after Ninon de Larroque to try and keep her from Athos' door, I've kept crucial pieces of information from him regarding the Queen and her all of her schemes and I always seem to be on the wrong side of the proverbial fence when it comes to trouble. It seems to migrate towards me as if I wore a magnificent headdress burnished in Gold and rubies declaring that I wish to be challenged and jeopardised at every point of my life. I suppose in some ways I take him for granted now that I finally have him."

Buckingham leaned back in to clasp Amorette's hands in his again. "Now you are being a little dramatic Amorette. You do not take the man for granted, far from it! I was there when you gazed on at him as a love struck teenage girl who thought her life would be over if she couldn't make the rather aloof Comte de la Fère fall hopelessly in love with her. You knew though in your heart of hearts that for the foreseeable future at least, he was not for you. You'd resigned yourself to that fact very early on but instead of moving on with your life you loved him even more. Even though it pained you a great deal, you still took his offer of friendship and became a close but not overbearing companion. You never once tried to force his hand or trick him into bed with you as many women are want to do nowadays to ensnare a husband! You did not and do not take him for granted Amorette.

"So, you miss him sometimes when he is not with you, and expect a certain level of intimacy when he is with you? That is not taking him for Granted Amorette. I would dare say Athos would agree with me. It's not your place to command the man to leave his post and come to you at whatever time you please; which you do not do. You have been most gracious towards him."

Amorette laughed a little. "I haven't always George. We have had rather tumultuous arguments from time to time, the most recent because he thought you already knew about my mother's death and that I had simply neglected to tell him. He thought I was pushing him away. There is a part of me that still cannot believe my luck, to have found myself in a romantic relationship with the man that I have loved since I was a child. You are right in that I had resigned myself to a sorry fate. Part of me had decided that if I could not have him, I wanted no one else. That in itself shows that I took him for granted, and myself. I did not realise I had it within me to have feelings for another as I did for Fabien. It feels odd now to look back upon the time before I was married. Athos was ready to give himself to me freely and I ran into the arms of another man so quickly I think smoke erupted from beneath my shoes. "I need to get over this crippling self-doubt that still encases me from time to time. I think that is what Athos hates most about me."

"That doesn't surprise me," said Buckingham. "I'm sure the man will be of the same mind as me when he looks upon you. You are all that is good and kind in this world Amorette. You have as good a heart as any and are fiercely loyal to your friends. You are independent and selfless, and have this unwavering resilience almost like iron running through your veins. After everything that you have been through, you'd be perfectly entitled to be a little out of sorts, even a bit mean but you are not. Before me now sits a beautiful, intelligent, compassionate young woman who is absolutely clueless about just how rare and special she is. I can comprehend very well why Athos is struggling. There's only so many times that you can praise a disbelieving woman before you grow angry and irritated that she does not see what everyone else sees. That can all begin to wear thin on a man. Especially one as stoic and as unforthcoming as Athos is. As you will well know Amorette I am well versed at flattery and the like. I add flourishes of it everywhere I go, but Athos is not that kind of man. To pay you such compliments and become what you needed him to be would have taken a great deal for him."

Amorette felt as if Buckingham was lecturing her a little, but it did begin to hit home. "I suppose I never did think of it that way," she mused. "He isn't entirely comfortable with speaking in such a way. He never was, and my sister trampled it out of him even more. Sometimes I think he is frightened to flatter too much, to give too much away lest I take it as my sister did."

Buckingham sighed heavily. "I suppose the constant comparison to your sister does neither you nor Athos any good whatsoever. She's been dead a few years now Amorette. I think it's time to finally put all of that nonsense to bed for good. You are not your sister and Athos knows this. He would not be with you if he did not know it already. I know deep down you know all of this Amorette, but on the surface it's plain to see that you still question yourself in regards to a likeness to Ann. Doesn't it drive you insane?"

Amorette wasn't sure that it did. "I think there are things about my sister that I would be proud to say I inherited as you well know George. She was independent and strong willed. She was highly intelligent and could certainly hold her own. I don't mind others comparing me to that side of her. I just don't know how to get her out of my mind when I think of my relationship with Athos."

"I'm sure he had the same feelings about Fabien," mumbled Buckingham. "That can't have been easy for him, to see you so distressed after your husband's death whilst wanting to pursue you. Fabien was a good match for you Amorette. Even Athos would admit that, and I suppose he must question whether you should be with him, or with someone who could offer you a secure marriage. I don't doubt that he knows you love him, that is plain as day to everyone but Athos is a conscientious man Amorette. He cares greatly for you and as such he will want you to have the best life that you can possibly have. He may or may not think that he can give you that life."

Amorette groaned loudly. "I need to talk to him, don't I? Tonight, if he will let me! I can't have all this clouding my vision for any longer."

Buckingham smiled gently. "I think that's best. Go to him now."

Amorette wanted nothing more, but she held herself back. "George I cannot interrupt him at his work; if for no other reason than Treville will not like it one bit. No, I'll see if he comes to me later and if he does not, I shall go to him. In the meantime, I will seek out Sacha Rouzet as he wishes to discuss some legal matters with me. Will you walk me to him?"

 _ **When I started this story, I wasn't quite sure whether Buckingham would turn out to be as wonderful as he is, but I very much like him! The next chapter will see that all important "talk" and it's ending will set in motion the action we've all been waiting for!**_


	63. Chapter 63

_**Finally, someone does a bit of talking in this chapter!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like what I'm about to hear?" Amorette asked plainly as Sacha Rouzet spread some documents out across the dining table.

They were back in her rooms at the Louvre, and Amorette was still reeling from the solemn and slightly guilty look that Sacha had thrown her when he had answered her knock upon the door of his lodgings a little while before.

Sacha sighed heavily as he passed her back the accounts book for her mother's estate. "For a start Cometess, your accounts are in shocking order. You need to employ someone to sort them out. I'll recommend a man to do the job well."

Amorette smiled her thanks at her lawyer friend but he didn't return the gesture. "I have no head for figures Sacha. Besides, I know there's more than enough money to play with. I don't need to know the ins and outs of it all."

Sacha shook his head as he took a seat beside her. "The thing is Madam that you give so much of it away, it's hard to track where all of it ends up!"

"What are you saying Sacha?"

Her friend paled a little in the waning candlelight. "You were right. You won't like it. Whilst I thoroughly believe that when you agreed to pay funds to your charitable benefactors they were trustworthy; but you've failed to keep track of them over the years. You've a good heart Amorette so providing for those in need comes naturally to you. You did not ensure they were always so reliable though. I think that one way or another, some of that money made its way into your father's hands."

Amorette felt a minute but painful jolt in her side as Sacha placed a sheaf of documents in front of her on the table and sat back to sip at his wine warily. She was silent as she poured over the tightly and neatly written accounts that were not hers, but showed vast amounts of money transferring into the hands of her father.

"These are your father's accounts," Sacha continued when Amorette found herself incapable of speech. "Don't ask me how I got them because quite frankly if I told you I'd have to kill you. This money trail goes back a few years but I think it became infinitely worse when you came back to Paris permanently. Your estate in Provins was not as closely watched with you involved in the courtly conspiracies. Amorette I know you don't care about money and will say you still have plenty more, but this is not about that. This is about the principal of all of this. Your father has been extorting money from you for a good few years now without your knowledge. He knew of your charitable donations and he has wormed his way into them. Whoever was handling your legal matters beforehand should be ashamed of themselves. Any man with some knowledge of book-keeping would see discrepancies here."

Amorette buried her head in her hands as angry tears pricked her eyes. "I should have paid more attention to all of this. I should have been more careful!"

Sacha squeezed her shoulder gently. "You said yourself that you have no head for figures. The lawyers who have been in your employ were there to do a job and failed. They should have noticed this."

Amorette wearily glanced through the pages that littered the table again, a thought beginning to form in her mind. "Maybe they didn't fail Sacha. Maybe he planted them."

"That wouldn't surprise me Amorette, considering what you've told me of the man," Sacha agreed.

Amorette turned helpless eyes upon him then as he sipped his wine again. "What do I do Sacha?"

"I'm dealing with this now," he said confidently and Amorette was sure it was only for her benefit. "I've cut all the fraudulent charities already, and blocked some others that I am still unsure about. We can go through them in greater detail another time. What you need to do is berate yourself for not seeking out the right kind of help from the start. You've had Buckingham as an ally for years and you should have been using his lawyers and accountants yourself. As Englishmen they would surely have been able to trace all of this back to your father far quicker than I was able to. I'll find you an accountant and I'll work with him to close all avenues that lead to your father. He won't get another penny from you Amorette. He has amassed a small fortune already though."

Amorette slid a weary hand through her hair and dishevelled the style a little. "I've been so concerned in the matters of others and their dealings that I forgot about my own! I've been so wrapped up in whatever-"

Sacha held up a disgruntled hand to rapidly halt her ramblings. "Don't you dare apologise or feel bad for having a life Amorette! I know you've found happiness, and that's not something that you should ever feel bad about. You've been a great friend to many people and that alone will be how people recall you in their minds! None of this business about money matters!"

"It does matter!" Amorette roared as she slapped a hand down onto the table. "I swore I wasn't going to let him have a penny of my mother's! I swore to myself that her estate would remain hers always and that he would never get to touch it! I've failed her! I let that insufferable creature worm his way in yet again!"

Sacha seemed at a loss for words and instead he settled an arm around Amorette's shoulders and squeezed gently. "We will sort this Amorette. I don't think there's much chance of getting any of the money back but we can launch an appeal. It's here in black and white after all, that he's been extorting money from you. We must simply prove you believed that you willingly gave that money to what you believed to be your own charitable benefactors. The only problem we might come across is that I may face some ramifications for how I came across the proof of all this."

Amorette sniffed lightly as she tried to calm herself enough to contemplate how Sacha had put his neck on the line for her. "I didn't realise how far you were going to take all this Sacha! You shouldn't have put yourself in such a position."

"That's what friends are for Cometess, and stop snivelling!" He produced a handkerchief and passed it to her. "You'd do the same for my daughter in an instant. That's why you were the only conceivable choice for God-mother. Don't let all of this worry you too much. After all, it's not as if you're poor by any means at all!"

"I'm not worried about the money," Amorette supplied quietly. "I'm more angry at myself for being so foolish. Yet again my father has made a fool of me! How on earth am I going to explain this to people without feeling utterly imprudent?"

"Don't tell people then," Sacha shrugged. "It's no one else's business but yours. Those that know you well enough will understand though. I think rather it's only really one person that you are worried about explaining all of this to isn't it?"

Amorette nodded as she found herself unable to deny the truth. "Athos will be annoyed with me I think."

Sacha sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. "I don't claim to know the man well at all Amorette but if he's annoyed at you then my advice would be to cast him off straight away and never see him again. He's not worthy of you if he is annoyed. I can't see that being the case though. This is just another scheme of your father's that was set to cause you more pain and distress. Your father perhaps thought it would be discovered sooner. I think to rise to all of it would be the wrong course of action though. He will be expecting that. Let me handle all of this Amorette! Ensure that neither Athos nor Buckingham decide to retaliate."

Sacha began to gather up the accounts and documents and shuffled them into a pile to rest at the side of the table. "Thank you for all of this Sacha. I'm glad I asked you to help."

Sacha nodded as he stood and glanced out of the window towards the darkening sky. "I was glad to help Cometess. There are still a few things we need to sort and discuss but we can do so at a more agreeable hour. I should get back to Claude. Get some rest Amorette and come and find me when you can and we shall talk more."

Amorette nodded as Sacha picked up his cloak and hat and left the room. She didn't retire to bed though. Instead Amorette pulled the documents towards her and thumbed through them again as she tried rather painfully to make sense of them. After over an hour pouring over them, she hadn't really grasped that much of an understanding but she had developed a dull headache that threatened to grow in volume if she read any more.

Shuffling the documents away from her, Amorette sat in the still silence for a few minutes with her eyes closed and enjoyed the peacefulness. It didn't last though. The door creaked open gently and she didn't even have to open her eyes to know who it was that sank into the chair beside her. The smell of worn leather and gunpowder and the garrison assaulted her senses as she opened her tired eyes and turned them upon him.

"What is it?" Athos asked uneasily.

Amorette pushed at the documents gently. "My father has been extorting money from me," she mumbled matter-of-factly.

Athos didn't utter a reply immediately, instead choosing to reach across her to pull the sheaves of parchment towards him. "These prove it?" he asked tentatively after a few moments.

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Amorette cried. "You already knew?"

A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth for a few seconds. "Your lawyer friend sought me out last night. He didn't openly tell me, before you jump to conclusions. I think he wanted to make me aware that there was some sort of situation brewing without telling me any of the details. I wrangled it out of him. I'm sorry if that's an intrusion."

Amorette let her head fall onto his shoulder gently. "I just find it hard to deal with the fact that everyone seems to know things about my life before I even do! But no, it isn't really an intrusion. I'd have told you anyway."

"Would you?" Athos asked as he pulled away slightly to look at her with raised eyebrows. "You aren't so good at that."

Amorette groaned loudly. "I'm trying to be better at it. I'm willing to try. I need you to understand that I do want to tell you everything, and for there to be nothing left unsaid between us but I can't do it all at once. A lot of it is hard for me to talk about, particularly my mother. I am willing to try though. I will tell you as much as I feel that I can at any given time. That's not because I want to leave bits out. If I were to try and tell you all of it at once, I do not think it would be such a pretty sight. I have prided myself on the fact that I am strong and resilient but there is also a very emotional side to me that I pretend I know nothing about. Those emotional mood swings are more prominent than I would like to admit and I cry more than I probably should. I'm going to try and come to terms with the fact that things upset me when I should let them fly over my head. Perhaps then I can get a better handle of things. If you want me to talk about my mother though, you might be waiting a while. I'm still not comfortable talking about what happened."

"I know what happened though," Athos supplied as he took her hand. "I don't need you to relive that at all. I just need to tell me how it makes you feel. If you don't do that then how am I to feel that I really know who you are Amorette?"

She shrugged absentmindedly, already uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed. Those cobalt blue eyes seemed suddenly so desperately longing for her honesty then, as he turned his whole body in his chair so that he was gazing at her intently and Amorette felt her chest constrict a little. "But what if I don't even know how I feel about it all? That's my problem. I still haven't processed it no matter how long ago it was. I don't think I'll ever be at peace with what happened."

Athos brought a hand up to gently caress the side of her face. "No one is asking you to be at peace with it; especially now that the truth is finally out. Amorette no one is asking you to forgive or forget. I just want you to understand that you can tell me anything whatsoever with no judgement or questions asked. I want you to tell me because it's such an intrinsic part of your life and of who you are as a person. I love that person so naturally I want to know everything, and help you if I can."

She shuffled closer to him in her chair and threw her arms around his neck. "You already are helping," she whispered into his hair.

Sleep evaded both of them that evening, but neither one of them minded. They crawled into bed and doused all of the candles, but neither one of them wanted to sleep just yet. They lay facing each other in bed, whispering quietly into the darkness.

"It's not a day I like remembering," Amorette began.

She felt Athos move a little closer to her. "I know it isn't. I'm not asking you to."

Amorette squirmed as she realised that even though Athos said he wasn't pushing her to talk, he still wanted her to. "The maid woke me before the sun was even up," she continued; battling against the memories forming in her mind. "I remember thinking it was so odd being shaken awake when the curtains were not even drawn yet. When I first opened my eyes I realised it was still early because the gap in the curtains showed only a hazy kind of light. There was no one else in the house other than the household staff and myself. As soon as I looked at the maid who had shaken me awake I knew something terrible had happened.

Amorette sucked in a breath as she recalled the poor maid's face and vaguely wondered where the woman was now. "She was crying so much she couldn't get her words out and all she could do was gesture out into the hallway. I knew then what that something terrible was. It was like my heart shattered into shards of ice. I suddenly felt so cold all over, and I couldn't get my legs to move. She dragged me up out of bed and I still couldn't make out her ramblings so I told her to stay in my rooms. She tried to stop me from going to my mother's rooms. I think she only woke me because as the only member of the family in the house I would have to give the orders about what was to be done. I made her sit in the chair by my bed and went in search of my mother.

"The rest of the house was still asleep. I think my mother must have asked the maid to wake her early for some reason. She'd gone in as asked and found her in bed."

Amorette stopped for a long while, not sure whether he could see her tears in the darkness. She waited until she felt them subside a little before chancing to speak again. "You know what happened anyway," she mumbled quietly into her pillow. Her voice cracked on the last word and she felt Athos' hand reach around to the small of her back. He pulled her tightly against his chest and she breathed in the unique smell of him that she knew so well. "Sometimes I think I can still smell her perfume you know," Amorette added lightly. "When I walked into her rooms that morning it was as if every soft furnishing or piece of clothing had been doused in it. I almost choked on it as I saw her on the bed.

The arms tightened around her and strangely, Amorette felt her tears somehow dry up, as if they were no longer needed when she had Athos with her. "That's why I picked Lavender you know."

"I don't even remember your mother's perfume. I didn't realise she wore a Lavender scent too," said Athos.

Amorette shook her head against his chest. "She didn't. ironically, she wore Jasmine."

Athos felt an odd pang of annoyance deep down inside him. "Please don't try to tell me that Ann wore a Jasmine scent in remembrance of your mother. That woman had no time for sentimentality!"

Amorette shrugged. "I don't know Athos. We never talked of it. I wore mostly Lavender, but I swayed between a few scents in my younger years. I always liked stealing my mother's and placing it on the sleeves of my dresses. I couldn't do that after she was gone though. I couldn't stand the smell. I picked Lavender because it was always so overpowering. Sometimes when I thought I could smell Jasmine I'd have my own scent close by to try and diffuse it. I couldn't smell Jasmine without connecting that scent with what I had seen that morning. Oddly though, when Ann wore it around me I never thought of my mother in that way."

Athos snorted. "Amorette your mother was a lovely woman. Ann's presence would hardly bring about remembrance of a woman who was so much better than her."

"She looked as if she was just sleeping Athos." Amorette pulled away just far enough to be able to try and discern his face in the darkness, but he didn't lessen his hold upon her. "I knew she wasn't of course but I'm glad that she looked peaceful. By that time the maid had roused herself a little and she'd gone to fetch some of the others. The stable boys rode into the local town to fetch help and one of the grooms came to fetch me back to my room. He had a bit of a fight on his hands. I didn't want to leave her Athos. I couldn't leave her!

"I don't know whether I knew what had really happened in that moment. It was clear that the necklace had choked her, but the murmurs from the household all seemed to allude to the fact they thought she had choked in her sleep. I understand why they thought that. She did look peaceful after all; apart from the great purple welt around her throat."

Amorette shallowed harshly, not sure if she could carry on talking. "So your father must have left during the night, if he was not there when you were woken?" Athos probed.

Amorette cleared her throat to give herself another second or two to consider her answer. "He must have left before the household woke. I've gone over it so many times in my head but I just can't fathom what was going through his head that evening. How could he have done it? My mother was defenceless! Fast asleep and completely unaware of the pure evil that lurked within her own home. She lay with him that night as you are lying with me right now Athos!" her last sentence was almost a shout.

Athos grabbed both of her hands in his and held them tightly as she blinked back tears again. "Don't try to understand that man's mind Amorette. It's pointless. We will never know what drove him to treat you and your mother as he did. He's a cold and callous creature with no heart at all. I only wish I had been there that day, so that you did not have to see your mother like that."

Amorette shook her head then. "No Athos. In the strangest of ways I am glad I did. I knew my father caused her death and the thought lever left me all these years. I knew the truth and if I hadn't, it would never have come out! Everyone was in agreement so quickly that she had been strangled by that bloody necklace alone and I couldn't find it within me to argue. Even you will remember that she was always wearing the thing. She never took it off! Her maid more than anyone knew that she wore the thing to bed every night, despite the girl's warnings. The stable grooms were under the impression that my father had left much earlier than he really had that night. You know, I think he moved his horse so they would think he was gone.

"There was no point in speaking out. I didn't know what his intentions were towards me even without him knowing what I knew. I hate myself for thinking the way I did back then, but I was so comforted by the fact that I was to inherit my mother's title and land. I was almost free of him!" Amorette began to sob openly then, feeling for the first time in a long time the guilt she had felt in the weeks and months after her mother's death. "My poor mother had just lost her life and there I was rejoicing because for the first time in my life I had money and my own means. It's the most liberating feeling I've ever felt to be free of my father and yet it was at the expense of my mother.

"I thought myself as cold hearted as him for such a long time! That's why I immediately set about finding ways to do good in the world, to give away the money he so badly wanted so that he could never get his hands on it. I knew how angry it would make him to think of the people in Provins prospering from my mother's estate; of the children being able to go to school and learn! I still feel that I did not deserve such a gift."

"Now you have lost me," Athos muttered. "You are not a greedy person Amorette and never have been. I know you didn't want all of that money and land. You wanted enough to get by on; a haven that ensured your independence from your father. Considering how he treated you, there is absolutely nothing wrong in that. Wanting to be free of him is not something that you should feel guilt for in the slightest. You've such a good heart. Look at all that you've done for your friends, for complete strangers even! It is those around you who are to blame, as I think I said before to you a good few years ago now. You had many close friends, and none of us acted as we should have done all those years ago. None of us realised just how precarious a situation you and your mother were in. I knew your father was cruel but I did not think that things could possibly escalate so far."

"I think part of me did blame the Duke of Buckingham for a time," mused Amorette darkly. "Even I was sometimes blinded by my father's influence. Buckingham is a schemer and was since he was still in the cradle. He saw my father for what he really was I think, and my mother had asked his father for help once or twice. It was refused. George didn't know of that of course but I had all of these dark thoughts sometimes about how he might have known in secret."

"If he had known, he would have acted. I am sure of it," announced Athos. "I've already told you that I hold his treatment of you in high regard. He has been a good friend to you."

"That makes me feel guilty too," said Amorette. "I tried to shift the blame onto him sometimes because I couldn't deal with it all myself. I did anything to stop dwelling upon the truth of what really happened. The household staff were very good about it all. They didn't carry stories, which was both a blessing and a curse in a way. That meant that no one really knew the circumstances of my mother's death unless either my father or I told them the truth. It was so easy you know… to simply tell people she was ill and that she passed away. In that case, I wasn't telling any lies. My father was ill beforehand and she had cared for him so well even though he did not deserve it. My mother didn't take long to succumb to illness too. She was ill of both mind and body though. I tried to convince myself that my father was not to blame for causing her illness, but it was just the beginning of a long list of atrocities he commited."

"Amorette you were grieving and all of that is completely understandable! In parts I think you still are grieving."

"I don't want to be," she murmured into the silence. "I don't want to imagine how it happened in my head but it's always there. Even more so now that I know it really did happen."

"Then permit me to aid you in banishing those thoughts?" Athos asked ever so softly as he brushed her tears from her face with his thumb.

She couldn't see his mouth or his forehead. All she could glimpse in the complete darkness were those Cobalt blue eyes, sparkling with something that could never be called desire. To Amorette's relief it wasn't pity or sympathy either. It almost felt like something new, something he was even now developing himself as he leaned in and kissed her.

 _The dark panelled, varnished wood was very reflective of the moonlight, her footsteps muffled by the plush Indigo carpet beneath her feet. She walked along the long hallway towards where a shaft of soft candlelight emitted from an ajar door. Into the room, she padded. The door clicked softly closed behind her and she seemed to float onto the bed. She kicked her feet under the velvet counterpane and pulled it up to her chin. The fire was dying down, but it was still relatively warm in the room and she rolled onto her side and closed her eyes, the soft feathered pillow beneath her head insuring she would have a restful sleep. A floorboard creaked close by and she felt a trifle of panic before she convinced herself that the sound had come from elsewhere in the house, made by one of the grooms or maids heading to their own beds._

 _She drifted quickly, almost sleeping when the peculiar sensation of something cold resting on her chest had her groping at her soft skin. Her hand touched metal and she felt the pendant of a necklace resting against her chest. The chain felt cold around her neck too, she instantly realised. She yanked at the chunk of metal but the motion only served to cause her pain. She reached with both hands to the back of her neck for the clasp of the necklace but try as she might, it would not open. She fought with it, her heart rate quickening as real panic began to set in. She sat up in bed and fought even harder, tears rolling down her cheeks as she desperately pushed on the lock of the necklace clasp._

 _Her fingernail tore, drawing blood as she switched hands, but it was no use. She dropped her hands to her sides and tried to calm herself. It was just a necklace, and her worrying would not take it from her neck. She let the shaking of her hands subside and tried to convince herself that the tightening feeling in her throat was just her own panic. It wasn't though. Something tugged sharply on the back of the necklace and she was yanked backwards. She clawed at her throat, letting out yelps and screams as the piece of jewellery restricted her airway._

 _It tightened even further if that were possible, and she was yanked back against a hard chest. Those cold and harsh eyes met hers as she glimpsed her father's fighting form, wrestling with her as he pulled the necklace even tighter. Amorette could feel herself waning even as she kicked out, trying to make contact with the bedpost in the hope of creating a sound that would attract help. Help would come too late though and even as she clawed viciously at her own throat, drawing blood_.

"Amorette!"

 _Her energy was waning, and her arms slid down to lie either side of her on the bed with soft thuds. It was all she could do to turn her head slightly and look into his eyes and make sure that she was staring at him, that he was forced to recall the eyes of his own daughter as he strangled her._

"Amorette!"

 _Eyes so cold and sparse and so devoid of colour gazed into her own as she felt everything begin to slow rapidly, the colour from all around fading away to white._

"Amorette!"

Rough shakes and screams tore her from her dream as two hands clamped themselves tightly around her wrists and she fought against his hold, feeling the need to reach towards her own throat where she could already feel scratches upon her skin. Swiftly she realised the screams had been her own.

"Amorette! I'm here! Shhh! Amorette!"

Vaguely between her screams and sobs it came to her that she knew the voice, trusted it more than she trusted her own self. Amorette felt herself still as her own chambers came into focus slowly. She was sitting up in bed, the counterpane kicked off and twisted underneath her. Athos' arms were clamped tightly around her, with his hands holding her wrists in a vicelike grip.

"Amorette it was just a dream, it's alright!"

His voice, his touch all served to ground her again even as she shook like a leaf. Her screams died, being replaced by muffled gasps and sobs as she turned herself into his chest, one of his hands leaving her wrists to hook itself beneath her knees so that he could drag her into his lap.

She cried against the crook of his neck for what felt like hours as he gently stroked her hair and whispered calming words into her ear. Eventually, her sobs subsided until she was sniffing lightly, her tears on her cheeks beginning to dry. Athos gently grasped her shoulders with both hands and pushed her upright again, one hand reaching up to stroke her cheek hesitantly.

"This is all my fault," he murmured. "I shouldn't have let you relive all of that last night. That was wrong of me." Amorette didn't say anything in reply, still trying to shake off the feeling that she would turn around and find her father there, reaching out for her neck. "I thought you were going to hurt yourself."

Amorette tentatively reached up to place her still trembling fingers against the warm skin of her neck that she had evidently scratched at in her sleep. She glanced down at her hands, searching for the torn fingernail she had felt so prominently, which was nowhere to be seen. It had seemed so real to her.

Amorette let Athos gently coax her back down to lie on the bed, his arms wrapped tightly around her and he dragged the counterpane over them again. Amorette's shallow breaths began to lengthen ever so slowly as she felt calmness settle over her again. Just as she considered closing her eyes to try and fall back into some state of sleep, the door to the parlour opened and she felt Athos stiffen beside her. They both sat up and Amorette pulled the counterpane up around her chest as she realised that she no longer wore a nightshirt. Athos too was not clothed, she realised as he sat up with her, his bare shoulder brushing hers. He gently manpowered himself in front of her as he reached down to the side of the bed where he had dropped his pistols hours earlier. His apprehension evident, Amorette felt a frisson of fear tear through her as footsteps quickly rushed towards the bedroom door and pushed it open.

A timid auburn head appeared around the door and they both sighed loudly with relief. Constance's pale face swam into view and Amorette felt bile rise into her throat as she realised that yet again she may have awoken the whole corridor with her screams.

It was Athos who noticed that there may be something else afoot. "What's wrong?" he asked his friend's wife as their visitor took a few steps into the room. She quickly averted her eyes in the little light that the candle that she held aloft in her hand afforded her.

Athos reached to the floor for his things and pulled his shirt over his head. "I'm sorry," supplied Constance Quickly. "But they've just found a man hiding under the Queen's bed!"

"WHAT?" snarled Athos as he stopped in the middle of pulling his breaches on beneath the counterpane.

Constance had averted her eyes, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was gaping at her incredulously. "Didn't you hear her screams? Her guard dragged him out from under the bed and almost beat him to death in front of her!"

Athos was pulling on his boots when Constance turned back to watch him again. He lifted his pistol brace from the floor and made for the door. He seemed to have second thoughts as he side stepped to a chair and lifted a robe which he threw to Amorette.

"Stay here, both of you," he warned. "Lock the door behind me and don't open it for anyone but one of us or Treville."

He brushed a hand gently across Constance's shoulder before he left the room. She trotted behind him to lock the door and Amorette slipped the robe around her as her heart hammered against her ribcage. She kicked off the counterpane again suddenly as she felt her stomach lurch and launched herself towards the side of the bed and the bedpan as Constance emerged again with a worried frown.

"Amorette?"

"I Think I'm going to be sick!"

 _ **So, this chapter ending brings us right into the thick of it! Expect lots of action in the next few chapters and I've even decided to have a little scene between Aramis and the Queen which is something I hadn't really planned on doing. This is the beginning of the end of the story, but as ever, I don't know how many chapters that will take! (And I've just realised I've still got twenty-two pages of planning to get through to reach the end! Oops!)**_


	64. Chapter 64

_**Thanks for the reviews!**_

 _ **Helensg; I'm not sure whether there will be whump or not. My plan for this story is bullet points which I then flesh out when typing and see where the chapter takes me but we shall have to see where it goes!**_

 _ **Roberta Lozano; Nope, the man under the Queen's bed is not Aramis so their secret is still under wraps for now. If I'm honest I'm not completely decided on how that plot line will go. Will the rest of the court find out about their affair? Who the heck knows 'cause I certainly don't! I think I'll wait until I have a scene or idea that pops into my head and go with the flow on that one!**_

 _ **.el; Personally I think that Amorette's father is not a man you'd really try to cross to be honest. we won't really hear much more from him until the epilogues unfortunately. (Little secret though, I had only ever planned one epilogue which is in itself quite lengthy but I have another idea in my head for a second epilogue!) As for Amorette being pregnant, nope! I think her sickness is due to nerves building more than anything else! I feel like it's certainly not the right time in the story for that kind of revelation, as Amorette doesn't yet know if she actually wants children in her future, and I think Athos is not (contrary to the ending of season 3) the type of man to risk a woman's reputation in such a way. He's an honourable man above all else so I feel like he'd marry her first because he believes that's what she wants. (wait for this new second epilogue I've dreamt up over this week though; s'all I'm saying!) ;) I feel like Amorette and Athos as two intelligent people would surely have their own method of birth control ( which Aramis clearly should have taken note of!)**_

 _ **My goodness, I don't know where this chapter came from at all! I typed it in no time. I think it's because I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and am eager to reach the end now and let you all know how it works out! I had this whole week off though, and I've written only 1000 words! currently writing chapter 66 which is turning into a real pain!**_

 _ **Versailles is mentioned in this chapter as a hunting lodge, because it was not yet a palace. Louis XIV moved the royal court there in 1682, so we're about 45 years behind that give or take.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

"What's brought this all on?" Constance asked darkly as Amorette splashed cold water on her face on the edge of the bed but she couldn't find her voice. "I can't believe you two didn't hear the commotion, I think the Queen woke the whole Palace with her screams."

Amorette shook her head gently and opened her mouth to speak, fighting back another wave of sickness that threatened to wash over her. "I…. Had another dream," Amorette mumbled. "I was screaming too. Perhaps that is why."

Constance came closer and observed Amorette's still shaking hands and sweaty brow. "Why do I get the feeling that this dream was much worse than normal Amorette?"

Amorette smiled grimly. "You'd be right. It was a different kind of dream altogether Constance. I suppose D'artagnan will have told you the new revelations regarding my mother's death; even if you pretend to be ignorant. That's what the dream was about."

Constance nodded her understanding as she sat down beside Amorette and soothingly began to rub her friend's back. They sat in silence for a while, both women straining their ears to try and hear what was going on beyond the walls of Amorette's rooms, but they didn't have long to wait before the target of the trouble itself marched in.

Athos' knock resounded loudly on the outer door and Amorette nodded to Constance, getting up to follow her friend as she rushed into the parlour to unlock the door for him. Athos was not alone. The Queen was ushered into the room by Constance and Athos followed to lock the door behind him.

Amorette glanced at the large pregnant stomach of her friend, and her pale face that reflected the moonlight outside the windows. The fire was dying out entirely, but Amorette realised when Athos didn't even think to stoke it back to life that there was something seriously wrong; that Constance and she would not simply be tasked with taking care of the Queen for a time. The nauseous sensation returned and she dropped into the chair behind her wearily, earning a concerned frown from Athos. When he spoke though, it was to the Queen.

"Your Majesty, perhaps you would be so good as to tell them what you have just told me?"

Amorette threw the musketeer a quizzical glance but his eyes were trained on the Queen who was still dressed in her night things and a thick robe. Anne of Austria nodded meekly and fumbled with the robe around her until she produced a tightly packed wad of letters from within a pocket. She held them out to Amorette who stared back fearfully, a feeling of absolute dread beginning to settle in her stomach.

Were these letters from Aramis? Had someone seen them? Were the letters from someone who had seen the Queen and Aramis together? Amorette reached out shaking fingers and grasped the letters. Taking them into her own hands, the room was silent as Amorette turned them over in her hands and sucked in a breath as she recognised Henry Fitzgerald's handwriting.

"What is it?" Constance asked when Amorette didn't speak.

Amorette shook her head, at a loss for words and looked to the Queen, who blanched as she read understanding in Amorette's eyes.

"It is leverage," the Queen supplied so quietly that both women instinctively leaned in a little to hear her. "Leverage that was almost discovered by that man in my rooms."

The Queen let out a wail then as she clutched her stomach, and she began to cry in earnest.

Amorette looked to Athos as he stepped closer and although he still appeared like a tightly coiled spring ready to unleash anger, when he spoke it was clear he was trying to keep his rage at bay.

"The man had been hiding there for God knows how long. I don't think his intention was to attack, merely to cause fright and perhaps send us another warning. The Queen's guard made quick work of him so I doubt he will be up for talking for a while yet."

The Queen was still crying loudly, her face hidden by long pale fingers and Amorette rolled her eyes swiftly before getting to her feet and approaching the woman. She stopped before the Queen and pulled her hands away from her face. "Anne I need you to calm down before you harm the child! You need to take deep breaths and try to stop fretting. Sit."

The Queen nodded through another wave of tears and sank down onto the couch where she closed her eyes for a few seconds seemingly to regulate her breathing. "I'll get her a drink," Constance mumbled as she approached the side table and poured a weak wine for the Queen.

Sipping the wine in hands a little less shaken, the Queen turned disturbed eyes on Amorette. "The letters?" Amorette asked. "Are there any more?"

The Queen shook her head. "That is all that there was. Any others were burnt a long time ago."

"Then why on earth did you not burn these?" Amorette all but growled before a sudden thought occurred to her. "You wanted my help with these? Oh, God did you want me to kill Henry Fitzgerald? Is that what you were asking me to do that day in the gardens?"

The Queen swallowed stiffly. "Yes, him; amongst others."

Amorette felt sick again. "What?" Constance exclaimed incredulously.

"I refused, I'm no assassin!" Amorette supplied quickly to save her own reputation.

"Well obviously," Constance roared in such an unconscious impression of Claude that Amorette had the strange inclination to laugh despite the dexterity of the situation.

The Queen shrugged and leaned back on the couch. "Read them Cometess, I don't mind."

"There's no time for that," called Athos. "Tell her what you told me." There was authority in his tone, like a father scolding his young daughter, and oddly the Queen accepted such authority. Amorette realised then that the Queen knew the situation really was dire.

"Henry Fitzgerald is working with Spain. He's been trying to encourage me to leave France and return to Spain where he says I would be welcomed."

Amorette snorted. "I'll believe that when I see it."

"I agree," whispered the Queen. "The thing is, that he warns I'll be taken by force if I do not go willingly, that when they attack Paris I will be carted off back to my home country. A Valois heir has been discovered, a line of inheritance re-forged. Fitzgerald does not disclose who the heir is, but they are poised to place them on the throne of France. I will be granted sanctuary in Spain whilst King Louis will face a traitor's death for usurping the crown of France!"

Amorette and Constance sucked in shocked breaths in equal measure. "Why the hell did you not come to me with this?" Amorette pleaded. "You should have told someone about this as soon as you received these letters. They should have been burnt not long after."

"It makes no matter whether they are burnt or not. You see I wrote back, so there are others out there," admitted the Queen.

It was as if someone had doused Amorette in a bucket of icy water. "My God, you allowed this to go on?"

"Burn the letters, you were right," the Queen replied stiffly but Amorette was already shaking her head. "You must burn them! That man in my chambers might have found them!"

"Well who's fault is that?" Amorette roared suddenly. "You haven't come to me because you don't know what to do or because you are frightened. You are ashamed because you are just as involved as Henry, aren't you?"

"My marriage is not a happy one Cometess. You all know this! I confess that I do desire to return home to Spain and I was tempted."

"You are a Queen, carrying a French heir!" Amorette cried even though she did not believe the statement herself. "You cannot run off back to Spain with your tail between your legs. You have a duty and a responsibility. You shall be needed at the King's side now more than ever."

The Queen was clearly conflicted. "This is bigger than Spain Amorette. The house of Guise and the house of Medici are in this…"

"Medici?" Amorette asked tersely. The Queen nodded solemnly. "Oh God…" Amorette threw a worried glance towards Athos who seemed to share her apprehension. They knew at that moment as they gazed at each other that Lyall Fitzgerald's ramblings had all been true.

"Might I offer a suggestion?" Athos asked plainly after a few moments of restrained silence. "The summer progress could begin early your Majesty? Take a number of ladies with you to the hunting Lodge at Versailles, only those you trust. Make it known that you plan to go a little further afield though to deter any attackers. Get out of Paris as soon as you can."

"You could take your lying-in period in the country," Constance supplied eagerly as she picked up Athos' threads of thought. "Have the child there away from the dangers of Paris court. If needs be we could move further away if anything happens in Paris."

"It would be a precaution only," nodded Amorette. "But I think Athos is right. It's precaution you must take." She turned swiftly and threw the letters into the grate of the fire and grabbed the rod to stoke it back to life.

Amorette stood then, feeling the absence of the letters in her hand as if they had been a heavy and cumbersome weight. There was something in her that felt a little betrayed. She couldn't understand why the Queen had been foolish enough to continue writing to Henry, to continue encouraging him after everything that had come to pass. It really would be Henry's downfall now; Amorette was sure of it.

Gravel crunched sharply underfoot as Amorette turned on the pathway and caught sight of Athos. She picked up her pace when she realised he waited for her. He offered her his arm as she approached, throwing her a worried glance. "Are you well?"

Amorette sighed heavily. "I've felt ill since that nightmare last night," she supplied thickly. "But in truth I have not had time to think upon it as I've been so busy."

Athos nodded as he began to lead them on what should have been a leisurely walk, but they were both too tense, to worried to appreciate it. "Are the arrangements made?" he asked.

"We leave before dawn tomorrow. The Queen has been persuaded to travel light. I have spent the morning trying to arrange everything whilst Constance and Claude stayed with her. I don't think I could have stomached being in her company today. I am still so annoyed with how poorly she has handled this."

"She's desperate," Athos concluded.

"Well I know that!" Amorette stopped walking and turned to Athos as he halted his steps too. "This is bad Athos, really bad! The Medici's and the house of Guise? Heavens, England might even support such a claim!"

Confusion marred his features. "How do you see that happening?"

"Oh Athos! Think back a few years!" Amorette cried exasperatedly. "Marie de Guise gave birth to Mary Queen of Scots who gave birth to the Stuart Kings! England might find reason to support such a strong claim to the French throne!"

"That is if it is a real claim, which I highly doubt," Athos mused.

"Yes…because a real claim has always been needed!" Amorette replied sarcastically.

Athos sighed heavily and placed a comforting hand on Amorette's shoulder. "You should try and get some sleep. You are clearly overtired and overwrought."

Normally, Amorette would have argued that she was perfectly fine, but she had neither the energy nor the inclination in that moment. "Why do I get the feeling something bad is about to happen?" she asked quietly.

"Because something bad more than likely is about to happen," he confirmed softly, as if he had dared himself to say it.

"Then I don't want to go!" she announced. "I want to be here with you!"

Athos let out a soft chuckle at her indignation and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as he turned and pushed her to walk again. "Amorette I need you to go. With you here I am distracted. I am not fully of my own mind. The same goes for D'artagnan and Constance. We need to know you both are safe from harm so that we can concentrate all of our efforts into protecting The King and Paris."

Amorette knew it was fruitless to argue with him but something within her was desperate for him to let her stay. She had a terrible sense of foreboding rising within her to grip her heart in its icy grasp. "Why do I feel like we will not see each other again?" she said before she could think about it.

Athos pulled her closer. "Amorette…I…"

He couldn't even deny it himself and Amorette let out a strangled wail and pushed him away. "Athos, I can't do this! I need to know I'll see you again after all of this! I don't think if I can go on if I don't know it!"

"Amorette you are so strong! You not need me to tell you! You simply need to have faith. Look at the strength you showed with the Queen last night. You were already distressed and you pushed all of that aside for her. You handled it well. I think when the Queen is a little lost as she was last night, she needs an authoritative push and you are the only one of her friends not afraid to go there. You are so much stronger than you think; but then I think that our love is so much stronger than you think."

He stopped then, his arm leaving her shoulder as he faced her and took her hands in his. "Athos…"

"Amorette I'm going to fight with everything I have in me to see you again. I have faith in us, in my pistol and my sword. I'm going to fight back to you with tooth and nail if I have to. It will be a long stay in Versailles, with the Queen taking her lying in there. I expect you'll be gone at least three months. You need to rely on our love to transcend that distance and time. It's _a powerful little love_. Let yourself believe just for once that we really can be together the way we want to be, the way you've wished to be since you were a child and we will see each other again."

Amorette let him take her in his arms and they stood like that for an age, breathing each other in, aware that this would likely be their last few moments together for quite some time. It occurred to Amorette then that there would be no proper goodbye, and at that moment she was okay with that. Saying goodbye made it real. Even as Athos moved to pull away Amorette continued to clutch the back of his doublet, determined not to cry in front of him again.

"The man, did you find out who he was?" Amorette asked to try and alleviate the sudden pressure of tears behind her eyes.

"Spanish, but apart from that…" Athos shrugged. "The question is how did the Queen's guard miss him when they searched her room before she went to bed last night? Aramis is going to stay with her tonight, but that stays between you and I."

Amorette nodded her agreement. "I can imagine that he is very worried."

Athos took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair as they turned and began to walk back up the path again. "He is convinced the child is his Amorette. Of course, he's worried."

"Then I hope to God for his sake and the child's that she begins to toe the line!" Amorette announced. "These letters and schemes need to stop."

"I couldn't agree more," mumbled Athos as they reached the doorway.

Amorette felt sick again as she realised that the moment had come when they would part. Athos opened his mouth to speak, framed as if to say goodbye and Amorette instantly threw up a hand to stop him as the tears started to come.

"Please don't say it, I can't bare it!" She stood on tip-toes and placed a gentle kiss upon his cheek before whirling away from him in a blur of tears and distress. She ran from him before she was tempted to cling to him for dear life and not let go ever again. They both had a duty to their crown that could be denied no longer and to spend another minute with him would prolong the pain even more.

Too worried to eat, Amorette wandered the corridors and hallways of the Louvre to try and shake off some of her nerves. Every so often she would come across trunks and hat boxes piled high outside the state rooms of courtiers. She didn't like the idea of half of the court uprooting themselves. Amorette had so quickly come to think of the Louvre and Paris as home, now that home was dissolving before her eyes and separating. Come tomorrow morning, she would be deserting Paris along with them all. To the eyes and ears of the Court and even the King, the Queen and a few carefully selected ladies were heading to the Palais du Tau in Reims so that she could begin her lying in. Amorette wasn't sure how a Disgruntled Louis had been convinced to let his heavily pregnant wife take such a journey, but it appeared that the Vicomte de Turenne had some sort of hand in it. As far as Amorette was aware, he had been kept out of the loop, but he appeared to have sensed the urgency with which all of the Queen's ladies had galvanised into action. Their real destination of Versailles was still a closely guarded secret between Amorette and a small handful of ladies. Aramis too had expressed his wishes to accompany the ladies. Amorette had accidentally overheard his conversation between the Queen which had grown heated very quickly. The Queen had refused to take him with her, owing to the fact that it would look extremely suspicious.

Amorette was hurt on his behalf even as she reminded herself that it really was his own fault that he was entangled in such a mess. Aramis had stormed from the room in a rage when the Queen's ladies had scolded him for causing unwarranted distress and Amorette had attempted to follow him for a few seconds before thinking better of it. To go scuttling after him would only attract more unwanted attention.

Amorette kicked out at her own trunks in frustration when she found her way back to her rooms. She was angry with the world, she realised as she sank down onto her bed and stared at her reflection in the mirror in the corner of the room. Just has she had begun to find some semblance of happiness in her life, something else came along to tear it from her. Tilda was bustling about, collecting bits and pieces that she had forgotten to pack and was placing them into the last of her traveling trunks and Amorette watched in resigned sadness.

There she sat having turned seven and twenty some weeks earlier, blaming the world for all of the inconsistencies and disruptions in her life. She really did think and behave like a child sometimes and this Amorette knew. She turned back to her mirror then and observed her reflection. It seemed odd to her that finally when she was ironically most comfortable within herself and in her relationship, she was still a little too much on the thin side. Her features were pale and gaunt and Amorette knew she looked upon an illusion of herself. Her real self was several ounces heavier, sitting in the corner with a plate of delicious pastries and fretting over the man she had always loved. That was her real self, and yet Amorette could not find it within herself to become that any more. Athos had been a part of that change. Amorette knew of course, that their attraction to one another lay in something much deeper than looks and weight and she supposed that in itself had been the deciding factor. Not caring about how he perceived her body had set a part of her subconscious free, the part that would eat for comfort and because she was upset.

Now she simply cried too much and caused silly arguments with Athos so that she wouldn't have to explain her worries to him. She wondered just how on earth he had put up with such childish behaviour. It was almost as if her fifteen-year-old self who thought that Athos would never love her back was far more sophisticated and practical in her misery than she was now in happiness. Twelve years on, he did love her back, and she had slowly begun to regress back to what she should have been back then. She had not been a carefree child, and she supposed that a part of her mind longed for some of that innocence. She needed to shake herself from it and recall who she had been when she had first returned to Paris. She had been meticulous and resilient. She still was when dealing with the Queen's secret matters and thus she realised that she still could be concerning her own matters of the heart.

She had not even believed herself earlier when she had run from Athos, telling herself that she could not say goodbye for fear of upset. Now she couldn't fathom whether it was what she really wanted or not. He would likely not appreciate her mood swings that he had been forced to grow so accustomed to if she did go to him now though. She sighed heavily and making the decision for herself, began to tug out hair pins until her hair fell in loose waves down her back.

"Won't you just go to him Madam?" Tilda asked suddenly.

Amorette turned to find the young maid watching her from the doorway and grimaced inwardly. How was it that a young girl of no consequence had been able to so accurately tap into the inner workings of Amorette's mind.

"There's no sense in it," Amorette supplied bleakly. "He will likely work into the early hours of the morning. Treville won't value my interruption." Tilda moved forward to gently put an arm around Amorette's shoulders and the two girls gazed at each other's reflections in the mirror as they spoke. "Besides, I don't think I want to hear him say goodbye."

"Don't you know his lodgings well enough? Can't you simply go there and wait for him. I think the gesture would be enough. Did he say goodbye last time?" Tilda asked meekly, a knowing smile growing on her face. "When he last saw you all those years ago, before he married your sister?"

Amorette shook her head as she broke the mirrored eye contact and stared down at her feet. "He wasn't given a chance. _We_ weren't given a chance. I couldn't see him afterwards and that was that."

Amorette knew very well that _'that wasn't that'_ but she did not want to try and explain it all to Tilda. "So, you spent how many years breaking your poor little heart over and over again, moving between the parties and country houses of your friends all the while still feeling like the loneliest person in the world. Then you crawled back to your own country house to feel sorry for yourself. Madam what I mean to say is that goodbyes are painful, but they are closure. That pain will ease in time because it was said and done. You cannot regret telling someone you love them and saying goodbye! You can only regret not looking into their eyes one last time and assuring yourself that they were truly real and a part of your life. If you ask me, that's a world of regret right there."

Amorette dropped the hair pins in her hand and they tumbled to the floor to roll behind the mirror, or fell through the cracks in the floorboards. She turned on her heel, swiftly kissing Tilda's cheek in thanks before she dashed out of her room, giving no thought to hat or cloak and headed towards the staircase.

The rooms were dark and empty as she had expected. There was not a single part of her that wanted to return to the Palace though. She did not feel foolish, or that she overstepped at all. She felt as if she was where she should be. She lit the fire and thought it an exceedingly good thing that she was there, so that he would not come back after a long day to cold and draughty lodgings, but a soft warm glow. Then she began to undress, pulling off her dress bodice, skirts and petticoats easily enough, and then fought with the laces of her stays for a good while before she managed to loosen them enough to free herself from the cumbersome garment. She pulled back the counterpane of the bed and her first thought was to crawl in, but then remarkably she felt her hands reaching for the hem of her shift and she tore that off too. She stepped out of her heeled slippers and contemplated leaving her stockings on, if only for the dissatisfactory notion of cold feet. Deciding she would take them up once she had warmed a little, she crawled into the bed and pulled the counterpane over her, feeling the material scratch against the sensitive and cold skin of her pert nipples.

Rolling onto her side she was able to breathe in the smell of him from the pillows and although she had intended to stay awake until he arrived, she felt herself slowly falling into a light doze; so much so that she did not hear the door softly open and close as he arrived home, or the sharp intake of breath as he turned towards the bed and saw her shape beneath the counterpane. She was only aware of his presence when he was standing right next to her gently slumbering form, tangling one of her curls around his finger.

She smiled up at him as she awoke in the half-lit room and was secretly satisfied with the look of wonder upon his face. His eyes roved over her bare shoulders that were visible above the counterpane and she knew he was wondering what else was bare beneath it. She felt his hand ghost across her cheek and trace its way across her skin, towards her chest. He reached the top of the counterpane and pulled it ever so slowly from her to expose her bare form in the gentle firelight.

Something within her couldn't help grinning wickedly as he gazed openly and unashamedly down at her and uttered a "…God…" He hooked an arm around her waist and pulled her upright so that he could plant gentle kisses upon her lips. "What are you doing here?" he asked in between kisses as Amorette tried to pull herself up a little further and close the space between them both.

"Waiting for you," Amorette replied a little more huskily than she had intended, and as she pulled away slightly, she noticed that the blue of his eyes was no longer cobalt, but had turned a darker, more intense shade; the colour of midnight. Swiftly his hand prised her legs apart and Amorette realised that she hadn't even been aware that he had unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his breaches until he was guiding her back down onto the bed. He needed to have her immediately, with no games or speech and Amorette felt her insides tense at the notion. Something in her face must have given something away to him because he stopped abruptly, his eyes rising to meet hers.

"Did you want to...?" His voice trailed off into silence as she sat up a little more, trying to position herself again.

Amorette let out an involuntary chuckle. "Why would I have come to your rooms to wait for you, in your own bed with not a stitch on me if I didn't want to?" She let herself fall back against the bed, her legs spreading wider apart almost of their own volition as he hovered over her. "Take me!" she whispered so suddenly that she was surprised he was ready.

Take her he did.

"I don't know what I was saying earlier," Amorette mumbled tiredly and between panting breaths a while later.

Athos let out an intelligible moan from where he lay on top of her, with his head between her breasts.

"I realised that I couldn't not say goodbye. I needed to see you before you went, and say goodbye."

Athos raised his head just enough to stare blearily eyed at her. "If that's the way you say goodbye Cometess, I'm going to make plans for one of us to be leaving the other every single day."

Amorette swatted the top of his head lightly with her hand. "You scold me for not opening up to you and then when I try to of my own free will, you mock me. I don't want to go through all of the hurt and the pain of wondering and not knowing again. I've done too much of that in my life and I can't do it any longer. My reaction earlier was childish. I see that now."

Athos was barely paying attention to her words though and Amorette knew it. He had hooked a finger under the garter that held up one of her stockings. "Cometess, I do believe that you forgot to remove an item of clothing or two. Allow me?"

Amorette sighed wearily. "Really?" she asked.

"Well, we are going to be apart for at least three months," he supplied as he ever so slowly began to drag the silk stocking of one leg down over knee, leaving a trace of light pecks over her newly exposed skin.

Although she was exhausted, Amorette couldn't help agreeing with him when he was in such a fine mood and she wriggled slightly as the hair of his beard tickled the underside of her leg. "When you put it like that musketeer…"

It was the sound of shattering glass that woke him from his reverie as the shot hurtled through the air and imbedded itself in the far wall. With Amorette on top of him, her hair fanned over his face; he galvanised into action as quickly as would be expected of a man of his military experience. He clutched her still sleeping form to his chest as tightly as he could and rolled across the bed, earning a yelp from her as the movement abruptly woke her. They landed on the floor on the far side of the bed away from the window with a heavy thump, just as the second shot shattered another pane of glass. Athos was pressing her down into the floor with his full weight, his laboured breaths exposing his anger and determination.

Amorette clutched his upper arms tightly in the hope that he wouldn't be tempted to jump up and place himself in the line of fire as shot after shot came. She couldn't help the frightened whimper that escaped her lips when the shots began to embed themselves in the mattress where they had lain only seconds before.

He growled in anger but didn't move an inch from her and Amorette knew that if she hadn't been there he would have raced to the window with his pistols to retaliate. She was there though, and he lay on top of her, protecting her until the shots subsided completely. When silence descended once more they lay there still a little longer, waiting for something else to happen. Eventually Athos lifted his head a little they both stared at each other fearfully.

Athos moved then, reaching for his clothing as he pulled himself into a sitting position. He pulled on breaches and then stood to move towards the window. Amorette jumped up with a jolt. "Athos no!"

He shook his head at her as he pulled his shirt over his head and peered out of the now broken windows. "Don't move. There's glass everywhere, you'll cut yourself. They're gone. The angle of shots meant they shot from the street. They probably think they hit their target!"

He was moving quickly again, picking up his belongings as he crossed the room. He shrugged into his doublet and grabbed his pistol brace. "I need to warn the others," he said urgently. "I won't be the only hit I'm sure. Stay here; and keep away from the window!" He made for the door and Amorette squealed his name again. He glanced back at her wearily, as if he didn't want to have to say what he needed to say, but he did. "This is the start of it; you know that, don't you? If they are coming for us, they want us out of the way because they know we would likely stop them."

Amorette nodded solemnly as he left then, pulling the door closed behind them. Amorette instantly began to send up silent prayers for the other musketeers and Constance as she pulled her clothing towards her and tried to dress whilst still seated on the floor. She took her time with her corset, but she still couldn't pull her laces as tightly as she would have preferred them.

Eventually as the sounds of the street coming to life below came to her ears, she ventured towards the window and stared down in to the courtyard and through the archway that led into the street. For the time there was nothing, and things seemed to be as normal as they could be. Amorette knew she was being lulled into a sense of false security though because soon enough the figures of normal Paris life began to disperse in panic. There was no mistaking the men that she saw through the archway then. Dressed all in black velvet with their starched white ruffs and collars; they were Spanish. Amorette's blood ran cold. Behind them, a shock of copper hair emerged and Henry Fitzgerald stepped into view.

Amorette felt the sickening dread that had been increasing within her over the last few weeks reach its peak. Before she had really thought about what she was doing she dashed out into the streets to warn the man she loved.

 _ **Things are about to get a little mad! Paris is about to unravel!**_

 _ **It's just occurred to me whilst writing this chapter that we don't really know anything at all about the day Amorette and Athos met when she was five. It's been mentioned quite a lot, so I guess what I would like to know is would you like me to write that scene? Let me know! If I write it, I'll add it somewhere fitting. Needless to say, I don't actually have that scene in my head, which is slightly odd! In a way I just have this image of them having always known each other, which is probably what it feels like to them!**_


	65. Chapter 65

_**Remember Shauna? She's back in this chapter!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

It was only as Amorette reached the streets that she realised that her own pistols lay back in her rooms at the Louvre and she felt the absence of the brace around her waist keenly as she peered around the street corner apprehensively. She could see nothing of the men she had glimpsed from the window moments ago, but she could also see no one that she ought to have seen. Even at this early hour of the morning, Amorette knew that the streets would be busy with traders and fishermen taking their goods towards one of the city markets to set up their stalls for the day ahead. The bakers should have been awake for hours, baking bread and pastries to sell to the early risers that scuttled through the streets and the tantalising smell of their goods should have reached her being where she stood, with a boulangerie just round the corner.

The ominous silence stretched on as Amorette wandered street after street, becoming more frightened with each corner that she turned. Every so often she would hear the sound of wood thumping against stone and would glance upwards to witness the shutters of windows being closed again mere minutes after they had been opened for the day. Clearly, she had not been the only one to see the Spaniards cutting their way through the Paris streets.

Amorette stopped at the corner of the Rue du Bac and looked around her at the deserted streets. Where would Henry be headed with his Spanish friends at so early an hour? The answer subtly swam before her and Amorette wasn't sure whether she should go after Athos, or make for the Palace. Resolving to at least head towards the river to see if there was anyone else about, Amorette set off in the direction of the Seine. Almost as she began to walk again though, she realised that she herself had a tail. For a little while longer she continued to walk as she had done before, not wanting to alarm her follower into drastic action before she turned sharply onto the Rue de l'Université and hurried down an alleyway to double back behind her follower.

The shock of red hair piled high on a head was not the one she had expected to see. She did not know if she really had expected to see Henry Fitzgerald, but he was more likely than the person she did see. Crossing the mouth of the alleyway where she hid was Shauna. Amorette was so shocked that she forwent doubling back and stepped out behind the woman.

"Shauna?"

The woman turned sharply towards Amorette and seemed genuinely shocked that Amorette had discovered that she had a tail. Amorette looked upon the haggard face of the unfortunate woman that she had tried to help all of those days and months ago and realised that the money she had gifted the woman with had not bettered her life at all.

"Shauna why are you here? Why are you following me?" There was a thought blossoming in Amorette's mind though, and she suspected she already knew the answer to her own question.

Shauna shook her head quickly, a few crimson ringlets tumbling down over her face with the movement. "You're going to get him hurt that's why!" the woman cried in her Irish accent that seemed to have somehow grown thicker in her time away from Paris.

"I'm going to hurt who Shauna? I've no plans to harm anyone today!" Amorette replied stiffly, glancing around her as she realised that she was wasting valuable time. "Are you speaking of Henry?"

The hollow and cold laugh that escaped Shauna's throat slightly rattled Amorette and she forced herself to focus on the young woman before her. The dress Shauna wore had been well made; perhaps a good five or six years ago and was entirely out of fashion. It was a little tired but it seemed the woman had cared for it as best she could. Amorette recalled that the last time she had looked upon the Irish woman she had worn a very thick layer of make-up over her pale skin but today there was none of it present. Shauna looked much younger, much more vulnerable without it. Red-rimmed eyes were the tell-tale sign of tears and frustration and Amorette focused in on the boots that Shauna wore; old and worn, but also wet. Shauna had more than likely stepped off a boat at the river side. How many ships of Spanish men had Henry lead up the Seine into Paris?

"I won't let you hurt him!" Shauna roared and Amorette had the sneaking suspicion that there was a pistol hidden behind the folds of the woman's skirts. "Your musketeer will lock him up!"

"I don't want to hurt Henry Shauna! He is my friend!" Amorette wasn't sure how much truth there was in the statement and if she was honest with herself, she wouldn't stop Athos if he arrested Henry. He needed to be stopped before he pulled Paris apart. "Shauna why don't you take me to him and we can both try and talk him out of whatever it is he's planning?"

Shauna let the pistol fall into view from within her skirts then, laughing incredulously again. "Take you to him? So you can send for your musketeer? I know what Henry's planning! Do you think I can't stop him? That's what I want, to stop him hurting anyone. He's going to get himself killed and I can't let that happen!"

"You're in love with him, aren't you?" Amorette forced out before she could stop herself. She saw it all so clearly then, how she had dealt the other woman a very raw deal. She had placed her into Henry's care and caused her all of this pain. "If so, then I am partly to blame."

"I do love him!" Shauna announced a little bit more proudly than Amorette would have expected. "I know it seems foolish and rash for me to love a man like him but I do! I can't let him throw his life away! He thinks I'm a bloody fool you know! He thinks I see nothing. He doesn't feel the same way you know. I'm just someone to warm his cold bed at night and to make him feel alive when he wakes of a morning. He's never given a thought to the fact that I've got the brainpower to actually have feelings for him! I couldn't have left him once I met him, and I don't think he minded having me around so much. I don't think either of us really intended for my going home to Ireland after the first few days passed. He doesn't know that I've seen all of the plans he has drawn up though, and I know of his mad delusions about killing the French king-"

"Killing the King?" Amorette blurted out. "Shauna now you really have to tell me where he is! Or tell me what these plans say. Show me them if you cannot make sense of them yourself!"

The ominous laugh resounded in the empty street again. "You're another one who thinks I am a fool little Madam! Everyone thinks that because I was forced into selling myself on the streets that I am too stupid to tie my own laces! Let me tell you something Cometess, I know exactly what he plans to do. My father is a school master in Ireland. He may have been heartbroken that I was not a boy but he did teach me to read and write!"

Amorette grimaced then as she suddenly recalled the truth, that Shauna had written with quill and ink very amiably in her presence before. "I meant nothing by that," Amorette pleaded. "Please help me Shauna. If you care about Henry as much as you say you do, then help me to help him. We may be able to catch up with him before he does something utterly foolish. Once he enters the Palace grounds you must know that I cannot aid him though. He will have sealed his own fate if he gets that far. Once he is seen, he's done for. If we reach him before then, I might be able to prevent anyone knowing that he was even here!"

Amorette did not even believe her own words, but she knew that she needed to get to Henry regardless of the outcome. Once she reached him then she would decide how she was going to proceed. She stepped forward suddenly to breach the gap between herself and Shauna, holding out her hand for the pistol. She saw a war brewing behind Shauna's olive green eyes and wondered whether it was even worth trying. The hand holding the pistol began to move ever so slowly and Amorette felt relief fill her as Shauna seemed to admit defeat. Her face fell as she held out the pistol for Amorette to take and she stepped even closer, ready to accept the weapon into her own hand.

Later, Amorette would chastise herself yet again for being so trusting, but in that moment, she had felt sure that Shauna would give up the pistol and take her to Henry. That was why she had not expected the Irish woman to move so quickly all of a sudden, and had not anticipated the force with which the pistol but abruptly collided with the side of her face.

Amorette felt the ground rise to meet her as her head spun, and she blinked repeatedly to try to dispel the fogginess creeping into her mind. All that she glimpsed were Shauna's boots as they ran from her before unconsciousness claimed her.

"And the others?" Porthos asked Athos as he pulled on a shirt. "They're all right?"

Athos nodded steadily, even though something intrinsically like dread gnawed at his insides. He stamped it down, not caring to admit that he was frightened of what the day ahead would bring when he needed to remain alert and objective. "D'artagnan and Constance are fine, a little spooked on her part but…"

Athos's words trailed away as he glanced around him at Porthos' lodgings and the musket ball shaped holes in the door. There were other scrapings and dents in the thick door of a closet that stood ajar and Athos had the sneaking suspicion that his friend had been intending to dress when the assault had begun and had hidden behind the sturdy door when the shots had been fired. Whilst Porthos had surely been alone when the incident occurred, Athos thought he sensed the presence of another, who had perhaps left in the later hours of the evening. He knew that Porthos had more than likely been entertaining Alice Clerbeaux but in such a situation, his queries and questions were unwarranted. If the woman was back in her own lodgings and safe for the time being as he suspected she was, then there was no need of such talk.

"Aramis?" Porthos asked then a little wearily.

"He wasn't in his rooms. Whoever this was," the musketeer said as he gestured with his hand towards the devastation, "They were at his lodgings too."

"You don't think he's been taken?" Porthos cried. "Do you think someone found out about him and the Queen. That's leverage that might work you know. The Queen might be persuaded to do something rash to save him."

Athos shook his head a little as he contemplated whether telling Porthos the entire truth in this moment was the right thing. "Porthos if I tell you something…if I tell you the truth then I am putting my faith in you, that you will not speak of it to Aramis?" Porthos nodded tersely. "I am in no doubt that Aramis loves the Queen, loves his son the Dauphin and will love this new child just as much when they come along but he is frustrated. He and the Queen rarely spend time alone together. I know there is another woman he visits; one he has visited since he first came to Paris. Before the Massacre of Savoy I believe he thought her a great love of his but I do not know whether that is still the case. I believe he may go to her now just to talk. She is objective and uninvolved. I think it may now be a platonic friendship. I have seen him come and go from her lodgings and he leaves the same way that he arrives, presentable and amenable. He is never dishevelled from the throws of passion."

Porthos nodded. "I wondered why he wasn't talking to any of us. So he'll be with her then?"

"I'd put money on it," Athos agreed solemnly. "We should go to Treville, though I doubt whoever did this will have chanced entering the garrison."

"Treville ain't there," Porthos sighed heavily.

"Then where-"

"You aren't the only one who's kept a few things back Athos," said the taller man. "Treville made plans not long ago to spirit away the Dauphin to the country once the Queen decided to leave herself. He took the boy last night. Something tells me our captain felt a change in the weather for when he came here last night and told me he was leaving, he was in rather a hurry."

Athos took off his hat and ran a hand though his hair. "The Queen was intending to go to Versailles, not the Palais du Tau in Reims. Reims was a diversion. She was to remain close to Paris but out of reach."

"That's where Treville took the Dauphin," nodded Porthos. "If we get the Queen on the road today as planned, she can meet her son there."

"The Question is Porthos, are the roads safe?" mused Athos darkly.

"Let's find Aramis and fetch D'artagnan," suggested Porthos. "We can send Constance to the Palace and then we can try and figure this all out."

"We need to call upon my lodgings," said Athos with a shake of his head. "Amorette's still there. She and Constance can try to persuade the Queen to leave earlier than planned. They can travel light and their trunks can be sent on later." Porthos grabbed his doublet and his brace of pistols and followed Athos out of the door and into the stairwell of the building. "Not that I think dresses and bonnets will really be that important a thing when Paris is threatened."

A throbbing head woke Amorette, or at least that was what she thought it was that brought her back to consciousness as she lay in the mouth of an alleyway of a deserted Paris street. She sat up straight with a jolt as she remembered what had happened and she felt sick with worry as she realised she might have been unconscious for quite some time. Finding and warning Athos was her first thought, but as she gripped the wall nearest her and pulled herself into a standing position, she knew that was not an option. Her choice was a rather difficult one; go to the man she loved or go to the Palace. Yet to her in that moment there was really no choice at all. Surely Athos would be on alert now anyway. What was more important was warning the Palace.

Amorette gingerly let go of the wall and the world spun on its axis for a few seconds before things seemed to right themselves. She stumbled along the street as quickly as she could, noticing that the streets were still bereft of people. She made it back onto the Rue du Bac again, and couldn't help glancing south west, back down the long winding street towards the musketeer garrison. She hoped against all hope that he would appear to her then and tell her that she had been dreaming, walking in her sleep and that none of it was true. He did not appear though, and she forced herself to trudge on. It was when she reached the Pont Royal that her steps faltered. Amorette was well aware that she had not seen a single other person on her journey so far apart from the elusive Shauna, and she found that revelation rather disturbing. Here she was in early morning Paris rushing to reach the Palace, just about to cross a bridge; as she had done so many times in her dreams.

She stared across the desolate bridge and couldn't bring herself to put one foot in front of the other. She had herself utterly convinced that she would end up in the river within seconds, and there was not an ounce of her that doubted it. How would she though? When there was no one there at all. Could she not keep entirely to the middle of the bridge and walk as quickly as she could? How then would she fall into the river? She had taken a blow to the head though; would that be enough to cause her to collapse over the side?

Amorette shook her head angrily and burst into a run that tore the breath from her lungs. In only a matter of seconds, she had reached the north Quay and was clear of the bridge. She was not going to let herself be weak enough to be overcome by a bridge of all things; especially when not just Paris but the whole of France was at stake. She stood on the North Quay for a few agonising moments to catch her breath, very aware of the Louvre Palace that loomed over the buildings in the distance. She hoped her efforts were not in vain. Just as Amorette felt strength return to her legs enough to walk again, she glanced west; upriver, and felt her knees almost give way. In the distance, she could clearly define ships sailing towards the docks. Amorette knew as she turned and ran, that they were none other than Spanish war ships.

Athos shook his head wearily as he opened the door to his lodgings and immediately discerned that the room was vacant. Amorette's clothing that had graced the floor only a short while ago, that had been so softly and gently removed the evening before in anticipation of slow and almost torturous love making was gone, and so was she. Had he really expected her to be a sitting duck though?

"I should have known she wouldn't have stayed put," Athos grimaced as he took in the sight of his shattered windows and the glass upon the floor. Two silk stockings lay entwined upon the floor where he had thrown them the night before, and he realised that wherever she was, she was not wearing them. She had left in haste. Her shoes were gone though, which suggested she had dressed in a hurry but of her own free will.

Porthos threw him a shrewd glance. "Athos, you know I don't say this lightly or with the intentions of worrying you further, but what if she didn't go of her own free will. What if she was taken. They might have known you'd go in search of the shooter and simply waited until you left?"

Athos had to agree with his friend that his theory was entirely possible. "Whilst I think we should not rule that possibility out Porthos, I'm inclined to think she went of her own accord for now. It does not worry me any less but the room is as I left it apart from her presence. They would surely have made quite the mess if they had come for her."

"I'm just saying mate…" Porthos let his words trail off has he watched Athos' carefully schooled and impassive face.

"Porthos, go to D'artagnan and send Constance to the Louvre. Amorette might well have gone there herself. I'll fetch Aramis and meet you at the garrison where we can fetch more aid."

Les Halles was a little more populated, but not by much. The odd person here and there scurried from doorway to doorway to buy supplies for the next coming days and returned home to bolt the door behind them. There was the aroma of baking bread and the chatter of children from an open upstairs window. Fear had not quite gripped this side of the river as much as the Spanish might have wanted it to.

Feeling a little more reassured by that, Amorette ploughed on until she came upon the Palace gates, already closed to the rest of the city. Frustration bubbled in the pit of her stomach and Amorette marched on, hoping that the musketeer or Red Guard at the gate would see sense and let her though. Just as she reached out to touch the metal spoke of the gate, a terrifying sound reached her ears. The church bells of Paris were beginning to ring in a continuing spiral of warning, one more adding to the din each few seconds as the word began to crawl out across the city.

"Hello there?" Amorette called as she tugged on the gate to rattle it. "I bring news for the King and Queen. You need to let me pass!"

Amorette had expected musketeers and Red Guards to appear, and one musketeer did exit the doorway of the gate lodge followed by three Red Guards but also with them was the Vicomte de Turenne. Amorette couldn't believe the relief that she felt when she saw the young man of her own age who immediately barked orders for the gate to be opened. The musketeer had not opened the gate by six inches when the Vicomte grabbed Amorette's skirts in his fist and dragged her though the gap. The gate was hurriedly shut behind her with a resounding clang and locked again.

"Cometess what on earth has happened to your face?" The Vicomte spluttered as he reached out to touch Amorette's chin.

She swatted his hand away quickly, knowing they didn't have much time. "Forget that, you need more men on this gate Monsieur! More men on every gate! Spain is come!"

He nodded slowly. "We know Spanish dignitaries have been spotted in the streets and we have the gates locked as a precaution as you have just seen Madam. For now we await the orders of the King."

"I need to speak with the King and Queen then," Amorette said gravely. Amorette was glad that her serious tone roused the man into action and he gestured for her to follow him towards the Palace. "This needs more than just precaution. I think they are both in danger. Someone should get the Dauphin to safety."

The Vicomte de Turenne chuckled nervously. "Madam it is all thought of!" He glance behind him then to ensure that the men stationed at the gate had not followed them along the path. "Captain Treville took the Dauphin under the cover of nightfall and left the city. The King did not know of such plans until the boy had been spirited well away. He is not amused in the slightest."

"Good for Treville," mumbled Amorette. "I take it the King is not for the moving then?" The Vicomte shook his head. "Then perhaps if the Queen can be persuaded, he will see sense."

"Can you persuade her?" Vicomte asked as they reached the great doors into the vestibule that were usually thrown open at such an hour, but today they were closed and manned by a line of Red Guards. The men let them pass with a nod to the Vicomte and he took Amorette's elbow in his grip to aid her as they began to race up the staircase.

"I should bloody well hope so!" Amorette cried indignantly. "If I can't persuade her I'll drag her! She will have to listen to me though. She has no choice really, not when she is with child."

"My God, someone fetch a doctor!" the Queen gasped out as Amorette and the Vicomte de Turenne burst into the presence rooms. They had been instructed to wait outside until they were announced, but they had both known that was out of the question.

"For heaven's sake!" Amorette cried as they both marched the length of the room to stand before the King and Queen. "Your Majesty we really do not have time for that! I-"

"Cometess there is blood on your face," rebuffed the King nonchalantly from where he still sat in his night clothing.

The Queen seemed to have understood the urgency of the moment a little more. She was on her feet, poised to approach Amorette with an outstretched hand. Amorette was relived to find that at least the Queen had felt the need to dress even if the clothing was a little ostentatious.

"Truly Cometess you must allow us to bring you a physician. You do not look well at all. You may tell us what ails you while we wait for him."

Amorette raised a shaking hand to her face to find that there was indeed blood there, oozing from the wound at her temple down cheek and into her hairline, but as the Queen watched the motion Amorette shook herself back to her senses.

"How many times, we need to act now. We do not have time for doctors!" Amorette stared at the King, willing him to understand that urgency was needed in his countenance. "Spain has come. I saw the men myself in the city. They were across the river but it won't take them long to advance to the Palace. The court needs to act! You both need to get to safety and the men of the court must arm themselves. This is what has been bubbling under the surface all these months! If you do not act now they will sack Paris and worse!"

The King chuckled dryly. "Madam Cometess, come now you've had a knock to the head. The Vicomte de Turenne has already reported the sightings of Spanish dignitaries in Paris to me which I still struggle to understand why I was woken for. I do not believe these men will be able to take on the might of Paris with only…How many was it Turenne? Six?"

"Six was the first sighting your Majesty but-"

"Six?" the King cried incredulously. "Heavens, are we to cower beneath our beds for six Spaniards who have likely come to trade in wine and furs? Where is Athos then? Surely if there were trouble afoot then your lover would have resolved to act with you in bringing this news to me? Go back to his bed and let him reassure you that there's no call for this nonsense!"

Amorette resisted the incredible temptation to roll her eyes at the insensitive crudeness in that moment. "With all due respect your Majesty, this is not the time for cowering beneath beds or for ignoring the signs. Athos and I were attacked this morning. He has gone to ensure the safety of his fellow musketeers and to bring them here. It is the time for ensuring the safety of the people of Paris and that of your court; that of your family! These men came downriver and I'm sure more will follow. We have not the time to consider how great a threat this is!"

The Vicomte de Turenne stepped forward until he stood a little ahead of Amorette. "Your Majesty I do believe the Cometess is right in this instance. Ridiculing and slighting her will not change her stance upon this matter. That is cruel and unfair. I think it better to be prepared for a large attack and if it does not come, then at least we are all safe and well. Better that than the alternative should the attack happen when we are unprepared. You should both away now to a place of safety!"

The king was shaking his head bemusedly. "Turenne I won't be moved from Paris just for this! My father and his father before him sat out much worse! Find these Spanish men and bring them before us to tell their tale which in all likelihood will amount to nothing! Send one of your men Vicomte!"

"I am afraid your Majesty…" the Vicomte faltered and Amorette realised just what he was about to do. He was about to defy his own King. "That…That I cannot send one of my men. I will not send them into the lion's den to be torn apart. This threat before us is very real and we would do best to heed its warnings. You are aware of this Comtesse's tireless loyalty to your Majesties and your reign. Believe her now in what she says or it may well be the death of you."

Amorette swallowed oppressively then, unsure whether she should mention the threat that Henry seemingly placed upon the King's own life. She only had Shauna's word for that though and so she resolved for the time being to remain silent.

The King was suddenly expressionless, clearly trying to hide his rage that one of his most favourite courtiers had refused him. "No. No. No. I forbid any action in this! I shall return to bed and what's more, there will be no summer progress." He turned then to the Queen. "You my dear will not take you lying in at Reims. You will give birth to the child here in Paris. There is no threat!"

Amorette let all pretence slide away and climbed the few steps that separated her from the King and Queen upon the dais. "Do you trust me?" she asked the Queen quietly. "If you do then come with me now. Save yourself and the child you carry for God's sake!"

Amorette held out a hand and watched her conflicted Queen and friend glance between her and the King and husband that she had sworn to obey. All of a sudden Amorette thought this was a battle that she might just loose. Only a little over a day ago she together with Claude and Constance had been telling the Queen how she must stand by her husband the King and be the Queen that she had been anointed. Now the threat felt much more real and imminent. There was no more time for obligation or loyalty. Within hours Paris would be at its knees and by that point there would be no way out. "Anne," Amorette implored on a whim. "I do not speak to you as a subject to a Queen. I speak as a friend. Anne, trust me to take you from here to safety. Even as you deliberate we waste precious time. You've never doubted me before. I beg you not to do so now."

Amorette knew her words had found reasoning as the Queen nodded sharply to her and took Amorette's hand. She didn't spare the King a glance as the two women stepped down onto the marble floor together.

"I forbid you to go Anne!" the King roared. "I am your King and you are my subject and my wife! You will stay!"

 _ **So, do you think the King will let the Queen go? Or will he force her to remain in Paris? Will Amorette stand for that though?**_


	66. Chapter 66

_**So, I think we are all agreed then that the King is a wimp and a bit of a pain! I think we're about to find out just how much in the course of the next few chapters!**_

 _ **In this chapter, the Queen learns some home truths.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

The Vicomte de Turenne shook his head gravely at the King's guard who stood nearby and to Amorette's shock they did not step forward to stop the Queen from disobeying her King's orders. These men too seemed to have sensed just how dire the situation was.

"Go now," said the Vicomte as he took Amorette's free hand and propelled them towards the doors. "Fetch any ladies you can along the way and take them with you."

Amorette stopped suddenly to stare at the young Vicomte. "You aren't coming with us?"

The Vicomte jerked his head in the direction of the furious and spluttering King. "He may be an utter fool but he is still my King. Someone must stay with the fool and ensure his safety!"

Amorette squeezed his hand that she still held. "Monsieur I think you may well be the fool in that instance."

"I know," he whispered gently. "Do not waste more time. Leave now, and do not tell me how you go. They will surely try to extract that information if they get the chance so do not give it freely."

With that the touch of his hand was gone and the nobleman turned back to the King who was shouting orders at his own guard who were refusing to act. Amorette pulled the Queen along with her, not sparing the room another glance as they reached the hallway where courtiers were beginning to line the walls. The two women walked briskly along the long gallery, calling to women where they saw them to follow but not many did. Amorette supposed she must have looked a terrible sight with blood covering her face and the collar of her dress and the Queen's pale and worried face could not have helped matters.

They did not stop though for anyone at all even as questions were called out to them over courtier's heads and Amorette felt a sudden burst of relief when she glimpsed Constance and Claude from the corner of her eye joining the small group of ladies that followed. Only when they reached the end of the gallery did Amorette stop to look about her. There were eight ladies following the four of them in total and Amorette suspected that at least five of them were of the Queen's scheming flying squad. Of course, they would have known to follow, having been trained and schooled to wait for such an occurrence.

There were only a few hallways and flights of steps between themselves and Amorette's old rooms where she would lead the ladies away to safety. The hidden passageway would finally serve its purpose in aiding its Queen in her hour of need. Henry Fitzgerald knew about that passageway though. The thought sent a chill down Amorette's spine as she realised he would more than likely have stationed men at the end of it. They needed to hurry none the less. Amorette would fetch her pistols from her room as they passed and hope that she had no use for them.

Just as the ladies rounded a corner to set off up a flight of stairs though, they all halted their tracks as the sound of gunfire reached them. The shots cracked off walls somewhere within the Palace and the Queen gasped audibly. Incredibly, all of the other ladies maintained their composure even as they looked to each other in apprehension.

"Ladies," Amorette said rather shakily. "Protect your Queen." Amorette did not wish to be the authoritative leader in that instance by any means. She wanted to cower in the corner and have someone else take charge, but right now she had little choice. If they wanted to get away from Paris in one piece, they needed to work together. "We must find your Guard your Majesty."

The women galvanised into action far more quickly than Amorette could have anticipated. In one fluid movement, they had all surrounded the Queen and walked as one up the staircase towards the upper rooms. They would never get there though. At the top of the stairs stood a group of men dressed in some of the finest silks that Italy had to offer. Muskets and pistols in hand, they had assuredly been sent to wait for them. More men appeared behind the women to hem them in and Amorette felt the fear of each lady in the air as the men began to close in.

"Medici's…" the Queen whispered to her, not loud enough for anyone to hear. "They were guests within the Palace. If they have sided with Spain in this, we are done for."

"Which Medici's?" Amorette asked in a hurried whisper as the women were herded back down the hallway towards the long gallery where the majority of the courtiers still remained.

The Queen shook her head in a minute movement, quickly stopping the whisper that almost left her lips as one of the men suddenly tried to plough between the group of women. With arms linked and large bustling skirts, it was not an easy task for him and as he began to move each woman tightened her hold on her neighbour's arms. Sensing that chaos was about to ensue, Amorette tightened her grip on the Queen's arm as more of the Medici men stepped in to try and separate the women.

"Don't let them divide us! Try and stay together ladies!" called Olympia Mancini, the Cometess de Soissons.

It was an order that no one could adhere to, not even the lady who had given it. As man after man threw himself into the throng of screaming women to prise them apart Amorette gave up trying to keep a hold of the woman's arm on her right and threw both arms around the Queen to try and keep her from harm. She caught the eyes of Constance and Claude who were now being shepherded towards the far wall of the hallway. Claude appeared a little confused by everything that was happening but Constance wore an expression of stony resilience. There was no doubt in Amorette's mind that Constance knew exactly what the Medici men intended to do, and nodded swiftly to Amorette to show her understanding. It was a nod that told Amorette to take the Queen and flee as soon as she got the chance; to forget about everyone else and take her pregnant friend to safety.

Amorette didn't know if she had the strength to embark upon such a scheme alone, or if she even wanted to leave all of those ladies behind to an unknown fate. It was knowing how wiling Constance had been to give up any chance of escape to ensure that the Queen went free that had Amorette suddenly reluctant to leave her friends as she and the Queen were dragged roughly by the material of their skirts into a deserted corridor.

Almost at once Amorette began to push against the man who held her, trying to twist her upper body around to catch a glimpse of his face. The man who held the Queen in an equally tight grip certainly appeared the model of Italian heritage with dark hair and eyes. Amorette didn't recall seeing such a non-descript face around court and in her mind she imagined that he had been keeping his distance from the French courtiers throughout his stay. He tugged roughly at the Queen as they rounded a corner and Amorette let out a growl of protest.

"Can't you see you're hurting her? She's with child! Where is your common decency?"

The man holding Amorette's arms tightly behind her back gave her a sudden violent shake. "Tere la lingua cagna Francese!" _Hold your tongue French bitch._

Amorette squirmed away as she felt his breath lingering upon the skin of her neck long after the echo of his roar had died away and held back from letting the men know that she had understood the biting Italian words. They continued to shuffle Amorette and the Queen along narrower hallways and Amorette knew she had never been to this part of the Palace before. She had suspicions that this was the older Palace buildings that the current Louvre had been built around and as such they would be heading towards the west wing that was currently unoccupied. There would be next to no military presence there either. That unnerved Amorette a little. Every time the Italian tugged on her arm she tugged back and she could feel his annoyance building steadily until they encountered a window in the stairwell that they climbed. Amorette lunged for it on instinct, if for no other reason than to find out for certain where exactly in the Palace they were. Amorette caught a glimpse of the corner of the Rue des Poules that led out to the quayside before rough hands grabbed her waist and pulled her away.

Amorette was shoved violently against the wall and it appeared that the Italian's patience had finally worn away entirely. He gripped her throat tightly as he banged her head off the wall, swearing in Italian all the while.

"Please let her go," the Queen pleaded in a quiet voice that could not have antagonised anyone at all.

Amorette felt her eyes bulge as his grip tightened and dimly her mid registered that if the Italian killed her, her father would more than likely take pleasure in knowing she had died with a man's hand around her throat. For a Medici; an Italian nobleman, his skin was strangely rough against hers as his other hand captured her flailing hands in his fist.

"No Davide," counselled the other man in Italian. "You heard what Berto said. The Spanish want the du Guillory woman alive and unmarked! Let her go." The man who she now knew as Davide reluctantly let his hands slide away from Amorette's skin and backed away a little. The other man who had spoken was griping the Queen's shoulders firmly and pushed her ahead of him as he began to walk again. "Madam," he addressed Amorette in French. "Perhaps you would do us the courtesy of complying with our demands, no? I would hate to have to hurt your friend. Davide will be only too happy to hurt you as you have seen also, if you do not comply."

Amorette nodded to him as he threw her a glance over his shoulder. Amorette felt her back stiffen as more shots rang out in the distance but she didn't have time to dwell upon them as Davide pulled her by the elbow further up the stairwell. She knew that Davide's friend was lying though. Perhaps he thought she did not speak Italian, but she had heard very word. The Spanish wanted her alive and whole for some reason and that was seemingly keeping her alive and with the Queen. Amorette began to ponder just why they needed her as the spiral staircase wound round and round.

They only stopped climbing when they reached the very top floor which was lined with disused rooms on either side. Neither the Queen nor Amorette spoke as they were led in the direction of the end of the hallway, both woman gazing into each empty room on her side that they passed to observe their surroundings. At length they halted before a door at the very end of the hallway and without any ceremony the two women were ushered into the small disused room.

Amorette turned to glare at the two Italian men just as the door began to swing shut upon them. "Stupidi." _Fools_ , She muttered just loudly enough for them to hear in Italian. She saw a flash of anger just before the door thudded shot and was locked from the other side. Amorette shook her head at the foolishness of their presumption that she would not have understood what they said in Italian. They knew now though, but didn't seem to think either of the women that much of a risk. As she pressed her ear to the door Amorette could hear their footsteps retreat down the hallway again and back down the staircase. No one would think to look for them on this side of the Palace, that was for sure.

Amorette turned back to the room to observe the sparse décor and two windows that looked out across the Seine. The room was devoid of any furniture and the Queen, tired and weary; sank down to sit on the floor with her back against the wall. Her pale and tired face was emotionless as she stared against the opposite wall and clutched her pregnant stomach tightly. Amorette knew of course that inside the other woman's mind was anything but emotionless. Here they were, locked in an abandoned part of the Palace that no one ventured into whilst the rest of the Louvre and perhaps soon all of Paris would be under siege from Spain and its Medici allies. There was no apparent way out of their predicament that Amorette could readily see and for a long time she stood at one of the windows, staring down onto the Quay below them in the hopes of seeing something or someone that might be able to aid them.

The Queen began to twist her neck this way and that after a while to relieve stiffness and Amorette gave up watching the river. She turned back into the room and sank down to sit alongside the Queen. Tension radiated from the other woman but Amorette was sure she herself presented the same mood.

"What do we do now?" the Queen asked suddenly in a quiet voice.

Amorette let her head fall into her hands and sighed heavily. "I don't know your Majesty. I don't know. If we can find a way to get out of this room, I don't doubt that someone will be guarding the staircase. Our best chance would be to try to catch the attention of someone down below on the Quay but there doesn't seem to be anyone about. Picking the lock on the door will be easy enough with one of our hair pins but part of me thinks it might be better to sit things out for a while and see where the land lies. If you were not heavily pregnant I would not be so cautious, but we must think of your child first. We need to play things out carefully. I think perhaps we shall have to force their hands in moving us from here."

"How long will we be here though?"

Amorette shook her head, knowing a little frustration could more than likely be glimpsed in her eyes in that moment. "As long as it takes for them to secure the Palace I think. You said that Henry Fitzgerald planned to remove you from the Palace and escort you back to Spain so I think at some point they will attempt to remove you from this room. They will certainly attempt to get you out of Paris but I do not think they shall make it all the way back to Spain before you give birth. How like men to overlook such a thing! Would they not anticipate that all the stress of this debacle may harm you or the child? Your Majesty I do not wish to alarm you but you do carry what everyone perceives to be an heir to the French throne!

"We cannot permit them to take you over the border into Spain because heaven knows what would become of the child. I must ask you to be honest with me now though because from here on out I think it shall be you and I fighting our own battle perhaps from this room. I must know for certain who the father of your unborn child is. I need to prepare for every eventuality."

The Queen nodded solemnly. "I think that as you have to ask Madam, you already know the answer to your query. Aramis is indeed the father to this child as he is the Dauphin."

Amorette had of course suspected as much, but hearing it from the Queen herself was something she had needed. "I did know, but you must surely understand that in order to protect you and the child as best I can, I need to know everything. I need you to think upon anyone else that might be privy to that information. It's not just about people who you have told, within our circle of friendship and people that you trust. You also need to think upon those who serve you. Maids and grooms of your chamber who may have overheard snippets of conversation or who might have seen Aramis' comings and goings from your apartments. There may be other courtiers who heard or saw things that they should not have. You must think of every time you and Aramis have been together, or every time you have spoken of him. I know it's hard your Majesty but you must. Anyone who may know more than they should is a risk to us in this. As the mother of the dauphin you hold some very powerful cards in your hand, but once doubt begins to creep in you may lose that influence. We need to think upon how we will act once we get out of this room and in whom we may seek help from because we will get out of this room. I'm going to make sure of it!"

The Queen seemed a little unnerved by Amorette's unexpected determination. "Madam just a short while ago you called me Anne and asked me to trust you as a friend. I do trust you, so you must call be by that name from now on. There cannot be any more formalities between us. They waste too much time and energy. Also, I trust you, so I'd like you to trust me as a friend too; not as your Queen any more. I feel that if we get out of this unscathed we shall be beyond all of that pomp and ceremony."

Amorette shrugged. "Oh I don't know about that Anne. If we do somehow return to normal Paris life, that pomp and state will again be your world. Your child will be second in line to the French throne and as such you shall be surrounded by it for the rest of your life. Heavens, I could not even go back to a quiet life if I wanted to. For so long all that I wanted was a quiet life in the country and was prepared to shun society and hide away. There's a part of me that still longs for it in truth. My life is greatly changed now though. It changed the day Athos walked back into my life and I came here and met you. I cannot go back to that now no matter what happens. My friendships are too important to me. Paris life is too important for me to just leave it all behind."

"Athos wouldn't want to share that quiet life with you then?" the Queen asked.

Amorette let a dry chuckle escape. "If you offered Aramis the same thing, would he accept?"

"I understand what you mean Madam, but things are beginning to change for us. We have children now that we must think of. I know Aramis loves his son as much as I do. He'd do anything if it made his son happy and safe. If a quiet country life was what was required for all of us, I think he would endeavour to ensure we found it."

"Would he be happy with that though?" Amorette probed gently. "Certainly, he loves you and his children enough to act accordingly but what about his own hopes and desires? Would they be satisfied?"

The Queen shook her head. "Don't ask me to answer that question Amorette because I do not know the answer. I comprehend what you are trying to tell me."

"I could not give up Paris life because Athos could not give it up," mused Amorette. "He is a musketeer and I won't tear him away from that. That he is happy is important to me, it always has been."

"That's why you stood by whilst he married your sister?"

Amorette felt a pang of annoyance that her sister had somehow sneaked her away into the conversation. "He loved her back then. He loved her a great deal. I could not have made him happy back then. I am a different person now and so is he. We fit together very well now."

The Queen grimaced. "You do not know that. If your sister had not made herself known to you, things might have been different."

"I don't want to think about that," announced Amorette as she pushed her now stiff limbs up from the floor and held out her hands to the Queen. "You should take a turn of the room and stretch your legs Anne."

With the help of Amorette the Queen managed to pull herself rather laboriously to her feet and began to pace slowly. "You don't seem to want to think about a lot of things Amorette. It probably has not occurred to you that I am extremely observant but you keep so many secrets. Perhaps another is why you are here with me and not with the other ladies of the court who are surely being held elsewhere in the Palace. I heard what those men said. Spain wants you too."

Amorette groaned and moved to lean against the wall beside one of the windows. "I know you are too shrewd a woman to believe its simply because I was passing letters Anne. I'm aware that what I'm about to tell you may come as a shock to you and you may feel I've wronged you. Therefore, I must first explain why I kept this from you first. I had no proof, and you would likely not have believed me. That's why I kept it from you. The reality was that you were more than likely better off not knowing. There was no reason that you should know, and there was nothing you could have done. Heavens, there was nothing that I could have done!"

Just like that Amorette told the Queen about Marie and how she had rescued the girl from Spanish court. Her words spilled from her mouth so profusely that she suddenly realised just how much she had actually wanted to tell the Queen everything for so long. The Queen listened in a reserved kind of silence that startled Amorette. She had to think though, of how she had felt all those years ago when she herself had discovered that somewhere out there in the world, she had a half-sister that she had never known of. It had been different for Amorette though. With the death of her mother she had become so alone in the world. The thought of a sister out there somewhere who had her mother's blood running through her veins was a reassurance like no other even before Amorette had met Ann. It was the promise of a new life along with her inheritance that provided Amorette with the independence that she had dreamed of for so long. It would enable her to start over far from her father's reach and a sister would be the perfect support and companion. She had hoped to share a substantial part of her life with Ann and meeting her new found sister had become the sole matter of any real importance to Amorette for some time. It had been a blessing of sorts.

Of course Amorette had not had the pressure and restraints of being royalty. The Queen was in a much more precarious position though. Hearing of her half-sister would not give Anne the same reassurance that it had done Amorette. Amorette knew it would actually instil a sense of fear within the young Queen. Her position, influence and her whole life could potentially be uprooted and destroyed by such a threat. Amorette of course knew that Marie was not threat at all and in reality was just a lost and rather naïve young woman who wanted to find a place to exist. She had wanted to know her sister as Amorette had done, but Marie had the difficulty of battling with the fact that her sister was the Queen of France and a Spanish princess. The Queen had not known the girl as Amorette had though. She only had Amorette's word that Marie was harmless and no matter how much she trusted Amorette, it would be impossible for her to do. She was a mother now after all, and the safety and health of her children would be more important to her than anything else in the world. This half-sister meant absolutely nothing to her until the Queen could be sure that no harm was meant.

There was silence for a long time after Amorette had told Marie's tale and she didn't probe the Queen into speech. She knew that the young woman needed time to digest the news. Outside the window, the sun rose ever higher in the sky, confirming that it was at least midday. The distant sounds of shots and fighting would reach their ears every so often but nothing could really be discerned from them. In their secluded spot Amorette could not be sure if what they were hearing was really a reflection of what was happening elsewhere in the Louvre.

"Is she safe?" the Queen asked abruptly as she paced the room again.

Amorette was a little surprised by the question, but it was not a disheartening one. "She was safe when I saw her last, on the day she left Paris with Captain Neville. The letter she left me assured me of her happiness. I do not know where they are now or if they are safe though. I hope that she is."

The Queen nodded slowly. "She does not want to be found then."

Amorette wasn't sure how to try and explain what she thought Marie's feelings were, so she tried to think of them in relation to her own. "She was scared Anne. She was worried about what you would think of her. She did want to meet you though because you are all the family that she has left. I understand how she felt. I felt it too a long time ago. She was so lost for such a long time and she was treated so poorly in Spain that to have me on her side was a relief I think. I had managed to convince her that she should meet with you, and that I would help her in any way I could but she needed time to come to terms with it all. I think that's why she fell so hard for Neville. He was there almost every day with her. He was a much better friend to her than I ever was and I think in time she realised what was more important to her at that point in her life. I will not say I agree with her judgement. I still believe she should have come to you because you would have had the chance to see her as I do and you'd have helped her. I know you would Anne. She loves him though. We both know what that feels like. Perhaps in time she will return to us. He made her happy though. She wants to be with him."

"You are right in that I think I would have found it hard to believe if you had told me at the time," confirmed the Queen. "I would of course have believed that you believed this girls story because I trust you but without these letters that Marie has as proof, I'd have no choice but to disbelieve it all. You know how many times things like this happen. The world is full of people who claim to be someone that they are not Amorette. I'm not saying I do or don't believe this story right now. I trust in your beliefs though that this woman appeared harmless. We must simply hope that if she does in time wish to meet me that she comes forward, and that if she doesn't that she is content with such a decision."

"Spain knows I helped her," Amorette mumbled. "That's more than likely why they want me. They want to know where she is because they mean her harm. Perhaps they want to marry her to this Valois heir that they have found. I'm glad I don't know the truth of her whereabouts but if they come for me, I don't think I'll live very long. Once they ascertain I know nothing, they will have no more use from me. Spain has no other reason for me unless they mean to ransom me to my father. That will have a sorry ending too. You already know how my father covets his fortune. I didn't tell you, but he's been extorting money from me. Of course it's not a matter for discussion now but there's no way he's giving Spain money to ensure my safety. That's why we need to do something. We can't just let them take us."

"Then what will we do?" asked the Queen.

Amorette gazed at her for a few seconds. "You are a pregnant, hormonal Queen of France! They cannot shut you away like this! The first chance we get, we are persuading them to move you to your own apartments. Who knows who we might meet along the way who can help us."

Another plan was swiftly forming in Amorette's mind though as she continued to gaze out at the quayside below the window, hoping for the impossible. Impossible was attainable though, Amorette realised as from below there came the sound of gunfire. From the gate that led out onto the riverbank Amorette and the Queen watched from their prison as from nowhere, figures dashed from the cover of the Palace and the Spanish men on the other side of the gates were attacked almost at the same time.

Figures wrapped in cloaks were bundled through the gate as the Spanish men fired in retaliation and they escaped down the riverbank onto the deck of a barge. From nowhere the two women glimpsed the blue cloaks of musketeers appear from the other side of the river and return fire upon the Spanish men. Immediately Amorette spurned herself into action and bent down to tear a strip of her skirts off. She threw open the window and on impulse she let the torn strip of her skirt catch on the breeze outside the window like a flag.

"What on earth are you doing?" demanded the Queen.

"Getting us out of here!" Amorette cried back. In reality, she wasn't sure if the gesture was enough to get them anywhere. She didn't know who those musketeers were but if Athos was among them, he'd recognise the colour of her skirts.

Brick and mortar cracked so close to Amorette's eye that she jerked backwards on impulse, throwing the window shut again as musket balls crashed into the wall just to the left of the window.

 _ **Who were those people bundled in cloaks that were trying to escape the Louvre then eh?**_

 _ **In the next chapter, we will see if Amorette and the Queen can manage to make their escape and whether Aramis will reach them in time.**_


	67. Chapter 67

**_So, because I'm feeling a little generous (and because I've had a few glasses of wine), you're getting two chapters today! I did also post chapter 66 earlier, but for some reason it's not sent me the notification that it's posted as fanfiction normally does, just in case you think I've jumped the story massively!_**

 _ **I genuinely thought when I reached chapter 60 that I'd reach 70 and that would be the story told but there are actually still 17 pages of bullet points left including epilogues so its not over by a long shot! I'm desperate for it to be over though both so you can all read it and so I can begin really planning my next two stories. One is musketeers and is almost fully formed in my head, but the other is not musketeers related and not very far off the ground so I won't mention that yet!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

"What the hell was that?" D'artagnan muttered as he ducked below the side of the barge to reload his musket.

"A sign," Athos replied worriedly as he raised his head towards the window where just seconds before, a turquoise strip of material had billowed in the wind, much the same colour of the silk skirts that had adorned the floor of his lodgings only a few hours earlier. "I just hope to God she didn't get herself shot for it!"

"Who?" Porthos demanded incredulously as he swapped places with D'artagnan and loaded his powder charge into his weapon as the others unleashed another volley of fire upon the riverbank.

"That material," Athos sighed exasperatedly. "It's from Amorette's skirts! Now we know where she is and likely the Queen and Constance too!"

"Not after that we don't!" Porthos cried. "Did she not consider that they would catch her out? They will move them to the other side of the Palace now!"

"Perhaps that's exactly what she intended!" Aramis called from a few yards away. With a glance to Athos he nodded swiftly. "She knows a way out of the Palace does she not?"

Athos jerked backwards as his musket misfired slightly and threw the weapon to the worn deck of the barge with a heavy thud. "Surely the Queen would demand to be taken to her own rooms! These men are intent on returning her to Spain so I think it likely they will heed her requests to keep her content!"

"We don't have time for both Athos! With Treville absent it's your call!" cried D'artagnan anxiously from where he had moved to protect one of the hooded figures. "Although I'm sure you know it pains me to ask, what do you want to do?"

Athos turned back to his three comrades and watched as war broke out across all of their faces. They no more wanted to leave Paris and their loved ones behind than he did himself. The figure cowering behind D'artagnan was trembling visibly, a sight that did not instil Athos with a lot of hope in that moment.

"Your Majesty, orders?" Athos roared above the din of gunfire.

The cloaked figure turned towards him for the first time, and Athos saw the terrified eyes beneath the hood dart backwards and forwards across the river. Even with the thick woollen black cloak that shrouded the King in anonymity, Athos could still detect an air of futility from the young King. His heart was almost torn asunder as he stared on, waiting for the orders from the man who likely had never thought this day would come. All that he really wanted to do was to leave the barge, leap across to the riverbank and go in search of Amorette and her friends. he had to force his limbs not to commit to such an action even as his leg jerked beneath him.

He was not oblivious to the nervous glances his friends threw his way but Athos maintained a firm grip on his sense of duty and responsibility. They had known as chaos broke out across the city that they needed to protect the King at all costs and if that meant leaving everyone in the Palace behind, then so be it. Amorette was smart enough to think on her feet and clearly she had already come up with her own plan. With Constance alongside her, he felt sure that both women were more than capable of looking after themselves and likely many others too. He needed to have a little faith in _her_ after all that she had proven to him over the years. He could just about come to terms with leaving her behind, but he wasn't sure D'artagnan would be able to do the same in regards to Constance.

"Let us take our leave of Paris," the King announced suddenly. "Take me to my son at Versailles."

Athos felt a sense of dread settle within his stomach as he glanced behind him to where the Vicomte de Turenne was slowly shaking his head in disappointment. The Vicomte had acted quickly in his quick thinking to get the King out of the Palace and to safety, but he had likely had the same misguided beliefs in the man that the musketeers had. They all thought he'd have stayed to fight and save the Paris that they all knew and loved. The Vicomte would very soon be coming to the realisation that he had left all of those people in the Louvre Palace behind for good.

The other hooded figure which was evidently a woman even with the disguise of black wool said absolutely nothing at all. Athos couldn't be sure who she was, but guessed that she must have been with the King when the Vicomte had lead him to safety. Thus, the Madam's safety had fallen onto their shoulders. Athos was sure the competent Vicomte could be relied upon to watch his own back, but Athos was entirely convinced that the King would need the eyes of at least two men. The woman could make do with one pair of eyes for the time being. That left only one option as the barge began to move further upstream as their fellow musketeers continued to cover them with rapid gunfire. It was only as they ebbed out of the city itself and gradually floated upriver into the Faubourg Saint Honoré that they began to think of disembarking.

The four soldiers watched on as the their fellow musketeers began to steer the barge back down the river the way it had come, returning to Paris to aid its citizens and Athos did not let himself dwell upon the sickening realisation that he might have just sent them to their deaths.

The three hooded figures were ushered away from the riverbank by a clearly distracted D'artagnan, who glanced downriver towards the Louvre every few seconds. Athos instantly forgot his own concerns as he recalled that D'artagnan was the only one of the four who had indeed acted upon his love. He had left not just a lover behind in Paris but a wife; who they had all come to care greatly about. Porthos followed in D'artagnan's wake, muttering something about trying to find some horses, but Aramis remained by his side.

"I can't do this Athos," the marksman stated plainly. "I will not ride alongside that man and take him and his mistress; for that is who she is, to safety whilst the Queen who carries my unborn child is ensconced within the Palace! You cannot expect me to! He is my King, but I cannot do it."

"I'd thought of that," Athos mumbled as he turned to face his friend. "I think we can readily assume that Amorette will attach herself to the Queen and try to get her out of the Palace. They may be in need of assistance. I had considered all of this and think it may be beneficial if you return to Paris and seek out that secret passageway that leads to the Queen's rooms. I have no doubt they will attempt to use it as a means of escape, but even if they do not, it offers you a way inside the Palace. You must understand Aramis that we all have reason for wishing to return; to abandon this duty of ours to save our womenfolk but it is only you that I shall permit to undertake in such a task. The Queen carries your child and for that alone the three of us must concede defeat in that matter. Three of us at least shall be needed to bring the King to safety so you must go alone."

Aramis clapped his friend sharply upon the shoulder, already readying himself to make a sharp exit across the farmlands and back into city streets. "We should agree a meeting place."

"Versailles!" Athos said sharply. "Get as many people out of that Palace as you can but do not delay or tarry. If the women come to you, escort them to safety. If they do not, enter the Palace yourself and fetch them. Do not make return trips though Aramis. Get yourself out along with them. Whilst I have every confidence in Amorette's ability to protect the Queen, I am entrusting you with the protection of both women; Constance; and Porthos' friend Alice Clerbeaux if you can find them also. Get the Queen to us at Versailles. From there we can mount an attack and the King can raise an army. It's early afternoon now so I hope we can reach Versailles before sundown. I will expect you within this one night Aramis. If you have not reached us by first light tomorrow morning, we will return to Paris in search of you."

Aramis nodded and Athos could tell that the marksman was only just coming to realise the severity of the situation. Their group of four had been inseparable for such a long time and they were inadvertently severing ties for the foreseeable future. Neither man knew if they would ever see the other again. It was a sobering thought indeed. Aramis was the first to move, throwing a long arm around one of Athos' shoulders to pull him close enough to tap him on the back a few times. Athos mimicked the action, both men pulling away from the embrace eventually to gaze at each other forlornly.

"The others…" Aramis whispered.

"I'll explain it to them," Athos replied. "Go now, for if you remain to say your goodbyes, they will not let you go. Porthos will certainly not want to watch you walk back into the hornet's nest. Go back for your unborn child. Forget everything I have just said. Forget duty and responsibility. Forget everyone else and save your child."

One last rough clasping of hands and then the marksman was gone. Athos watched him retreat into the distance for what felt like an age before Aramis was finally out of sight entirely. Athos had realised in the last few seconds before his friend left him that he could not place the responsibility of everyone's lives upon Aramis' shoulders. If he only returned to them with one person from the Louvre, he would still be a saviour. He needed to forget about Constance and Amorette and all of the other people that they knew and cared about and focus only upon his unborn child and it's mother. The thought had tears falling from Athos' eyes for the first time in many years as the sickening revelation hit him that he had just told perhaps Amorette's one chance of survival to forger her entirely if he had to.

Athos knew Aramis well enough to know that he would try to help others if he could, but the situation was so dire that in reality he needed to take whoever he could from Paris and not look back. He wanted to wail suddenly; to gaze up at the sky as tears fell and curse every God and deity for the heart-breaking mess they found themselves in. So many people were likely already dead and many more would lose their lives before the day was over. How could the King race away from the Palace that his father had built, from his wife and unborn child and all of his closest companions and not feel the despair of it all keenly?

The Queen gripped the sleeve of Amorette's dress so tightly as they moved that Amorette felt sure she would soon hear the tearing of the fabric. The Queen walked on exhausted legs but was on the whole, unharmed. Amorette however; had a new welt across her face from where one of the Italian men had struck her just moments before. She had managed to escape the musket shots though and almost felt the hit she had taken was worth it for they were now being moved to the Queen's own apartments.

Amorette wasn't entirely sure what it was about the Queen's pleas that had the Italian men thinking better of their decision to lock them so far away from the main halls of the Palace but she thought it might have something to do with how tired and withdrawn the other woman looked. The Queen truly did not look well now, with dark circles gracing the skin under her eyes and short and shallow breaths that seemed to cause her pain. She also walked oddly, with one hand cupping her pregnant stomach as if it was a terrible weight to bear. Whether exaggerated or real, Amorette was grateful for such actions in that moment.

With a few short words and no doubt some pleading eyes, the Queen had managed to convince the men to move her to the more comfortable surroundings of her own apartments with the promise that Amorette would behave with the utmost of decorum. Amorette did not tell her friend so, but she had no intention of doing just that. Thus, they found themselves hurried along the hallways back into the newer part of the Louvre and Amorette realised that perhaps the men had not needed so much persuasion after all. The hallways and rooms were deserted of both militia and courtiers and there was not one being to look upon them as they passed. Here and there they witnessed the tell-tale signs of destruction and fighting. Vases of flowers had been smashed and overturned and the scent of the petals permeated throughout the hallways as they were crushed underfoot. Windows had been broken everywhere and the shards of glass glittered from the corners as if a Madam's diamond necklace had broken apart and fell to the floor.

There was also blood. The Queen buried her head in Amorette's shoulder and let herself be guided back into the parts of the Palace that they both knew so very well. Amorette forced herself to look upon it though. She didn't doubt that musketeers and Red Guards had died in their attempts to help those who were now trapped within the Louvre and she sent up a silent prayer for them all. Her mind did wander though to the four musketeers that had not died inside the Palace walls. They had not made it in time, and unlike their cowardly King they would do whatever they could to try and save Paris. Likely they would try to find a way inside the Palace and Amorette hoped that they picked the right one. In truth, she hoped they picked the same route in as she and the Queen would attempt to use to get out.

Evidently these Italian men were not privy to the knowledge of the secret passageway that led away from the Queen's own apartments for the two women were led there with such haste and locked inside the rooms with little preamble. No doubt the men thought they would receive praise for their quick thinking in taming Amorette's ire. The thought might have made her laugh had she not been so frightened. Almost immediately the Queen fetched the key that would unlock the secret door hidden by a linen cupboard and the two women took their leave with only two candles to light their way. Locking the door behind them to further delay anyone destined to follow, Amorette knew she had little time before Henry Fitzgerald found out that they had been moved. Once he found out, he would know Amorette's plan and would likely come after them himself.

Amorette had not anticipated just how dark or lengthy the tunnel was going to be. Although the floor was made up of stone tiles, a layer of grit covered them that had evidently fallen from the rough stone walls. As they descended the haphazard steps even further, Amorette wondered if the tunnel would actually be deep enough to run beneath the river. The Queen told her in a barely defined whisper that the tunnel actually ended in a little church situated somewhere between the Hôtel de Ville and the Pont Nôtre Dame. Clearly, the tunnel had been used as more than an escape route in its time as it seemed vastly older than the rooms of the Palace that they had just vacated. Perhaps it was part of the medieval fortress that had once stood in the Louvre's place. Amorette imagined a King or Queen of earlier days hurrying away from the safety of their Palace for secretive political assignations or even to meet a lover in the streets that ran between Les Halles and the Marais.

Amorette could make the walk from the Palace above ground into the heart of the Les Halles market in little time if not distracted but within the tunnel it appeared to take much longer. The tunnel looped backwards upon itself a few times and in the near darkness such turns were quite disconcerting for the two women. More than once Amorette walked into the wall as it turned sharply in another direction and she glanced worriedly at the Queen. Amorette had swiftly decided she hated the dank tunnel, but knew that her feelings were likely nothing compared to that of her pregnant friend who struggled along with her candle dipping lower and lower as her arm grew tired.

Not wanting to disperse the sense of urgency and determination the Queen had acquired over the last few hours, Amorette said nothing of her worries and they plunged on, further into the darkness. Their walking had grown easier when the stairs had petered out to a flat plain, but Amorette could feel the ground beneath her feet beginning to gradually climb again and knew that they were drawing closer to the end. Eventually they encountered steps again and both women groaned. Ascending was far more laborious than descending and after a few moments both women were panting from the exertion of climbing the steep steps that wound into yet more bends and turns.

Suddenly the flame of Amorette's candle flickered slightly as a breeze caught it and hope filled her chest. After a little while more they could feel fresher air filling their lungs and waited with bated breath for the flood of daylight that would surely meet them soon. What they found though, was yet more darkness. Stepping out into what appeared to be an old church yard, both women glanced around apprehensively as the night enveloped them. Clearly, they had misjudged just how much time they had spent below ground. There was no one in sight but Amorette could feel the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end and knew instantly that they were being watched.

"We should not linger," she whispered.

"Just for a moment?" the Queen pleaded. "My feet are so sore and tired Amorette. Can't we rest just for a moment or two?"

Amorette turned to observe her friend in the candlelight. "If you sit down I don't think you'll get back up again Anne. Come along." The Queen's Christian name felt foreign on her lips even though it was a name she had used often before but the slight difference in spelling was not the only thing that ruled the Queen and Amorette's sister completely separate.

"Let's find some food then if we can't stop," the Queen supplied dully as she began to follow in Amorette's wake.

Amorette hated to agree with her friend, but they would both need sustenance if they were going to make it through the night. They had not spoken of where they intended to head once they had entered the tunnel, and Amorette thought it almost seemed rather foolish and Naïve to consider that they might make it to Versailles by morning, but there was a part of her that hoped they would. If they were to survive this, they needed to.

Just as Amorette tried to recollect the area beyond the church and whether there was anywhere they could stop to buy food inconspicuously, something barrelled into her from behind. Thrown completely off balance, she landed on the rough earthen floor of the yard with a yelp as a dead weight crushed her. Something or someone had come hurtling from the tunnel they had jut left. As Amorette realised with her mounting fear that someone had followed them from the palace, her mind flitted to Henry Fitzgerald before she considered that the man now pressing her to the ground was much bigger than Henry.

Immediately Amorette began to fight back with the only part of her body still able to move under the weight of the man and kicked out viciously from beneath him. With his struggle to contain Amorette's temper, his musket had yet to find any real aim but waving it in the direction of the Queen had Amorette stilling where she lay.

"Back into the tunnel," he growled to the Queen in an unmistakable Spanish accent. "Return to the Palace or you and your friend will die here!"

The Queen trembled as she glanced down to Amorette for guidance and although Amorette thought it very unlikely that this man would kill them, she had to concede that with her pregnant friend to think of, she had little other option. The Spanish needed them both alive, and while that remained the case they would have some sway even when locked inside the Palace. Amorette moved her head in what she perceived to be a nod and the Queen's shoulders slumped. Amorette wasn't sure what the other woman had been expecting. How was she to fight the man off when he was crushing the life from her on the ground in a desolate church yard?

"She has given her agreement to comply," cried the Queen suddenly. "You must release her! I am still the Queen of France and I have no doubt that you need me very much alive and unharmed. You will do my bidding and release my friend. Without her I will be inconsolable with distress. That is not what your men want is it?"

Amorette breathed a sigh of relief when the heavy weight gradually removed itself from her and she was left to struggle to her feet on her own. The Queen held out a hand to help her and Amorette swatted it away, aware that the Queen shouldn't be straining herself in her condition. Finally back on her feet, she dusted off her skirts and pulled free her hair from the last few remaining pins that were digging into her scalp. The man was motioning with his pistol and The Queen complied, shuffling back towards the stone steps that led back into the bleakness of the tunnel. Amorette knew she only had a matter of seconds to act.

Seeing that they were in agreement to comply, the Spaniard lowered his musket and Amorette got a glimpse of him properly for the first time. He was exactly what she had expected. A well dressed and well-kept Spaniard, with more than a little extra weight around the waist. He was older, in his forties perhaps and Amorette couldn't shake the thought that he had clearly been deemed strong enough to come alone and handle them both. She was half expecting Henry Fitzgerald to appear from the mouth of the tunnel to grapple with her, but this man was clearly alone. Amorette tried to glimpse the signet ring upon his finger that bore a family crest, but couldn't quite discern the emblem there.

She let the Queen walk ahead, back into the tunnel as she took one last sweep of the churchyard before beginning to descend the steep steps. Just inside the tunnel she turned the palm of her hand flat against the wall and ran it along the rough edges in search of a loose stone and found one much sooner than she had anticipated. Acting as quickly as she could, she tore the stone from the wall and swung her arm into the air as she turned on her heel. The stone collided with the Spaniard's head with such force that Amorette thought the crack would assuredly resound throughout the whole tunnel. He was still on his feet though and his musket was in the air again. Taking aim, he fired.

A split second's delay, and that musket ball would have imbedded itself in Amorette's brain. Just as the Spaniard fired, from behind someone took him by surprise and jerked his weapon towards the celling of the tunnel. A sickening sound of tearing leather and flesh followed almost instantly as a dribble of blood escaped the man's mouth and began to roll down his chin, his eyes suddenly unfocused as he slumped forward to land upon the worn tiled floor of the tunnel. Amorette's breaths came in short and sharp gasps as she stared down at the dagger in the Spaniard's back and then up towards the shadow who stood in the mouth of the tunnel.

"Did he hit you? Are you hurt?" cried the Queen in despair as she roved her hands over Amorette's face and neck to try and ascertain if there was a wound. Amorette shook her head meekly. "You're sure?"

Amorette couldn't find her voice at all, so instead she nodded, and the Queen released her. Turning towards the shadow, the Queen threw her arms around his neck and that action in itself left Amorette in little doubt as to the identity of their saviour.

"That was not smart Amorette," Aramis cried as he fixed her with an unwavering glare. "That shot was intended to kill you!"

"Well I'm sorry if I thought the act of saving your own unborn child ranked a little higher on my list of risks to take Aramis!" Amorette suddenly replied hotly and pushed past the marksman and out into the air of the churchyard again. "Where is everyone else? Where is Athos?"

When Aramis didn't immediately reply Amorette felt a strange sort of pull within her chest and she turned back to him with sorrowful eyes. He met them with a small smile though and shook off the Queen's embrace. He took Amorette's still shaking hand in his own and squeezed lightly. "He's gone to Versailles with the others; he's taken the King to safety."

"The King?" asked the Queen. "Then was the King amongst the men who Amorette saw escaping the Palace?" Aramis nodded gravely. "He left everyone behind…"

"Do not think upon it now," said Aramis as he wound an arm around the queen's shoulders and his other arm pulled Amorette closer to do the same. "You are alive and safe now. That's all me must think on; that and getting ourselves on the road to Versailles!"

"The road?" Amorette asked him. "I don't know if that's safe Aramis. They will come looking for that man when he does not return with us. They will follow. Are we not better to lose ourselves within the forests between here and Versailles and come by our destination that way?"

"That would take longer," Aramis mused. "Much longer. We might not reach Versailles before morning. I have an agreement with Athos that if I'm not returned to him by morning then he will come looking or me."

Amorette rolled her eyes that earned a forced chuckle from Aramis. "Athos isn't here is he? He doesn't know how dire things are. The road is dangerous. We could move alongside it, but far enough away to remain hidden. That way we may check it from time to time."

Aramis nodded. "Come then, I know the priest of this parish. If we can find where he has hidden himself, he may give us some food before we depart."

Stale bread and cheese were all that they found, but both women who had not eaten at all that day wolfed it down as if it were a fluffy and light puff pastry or a baked marzipan sugar cake. They had not found the priest that Aramis had spoken of, but the marksman did not seem surprised.

"I have no doubt that they will have gone to ground," he supplied evenly as he fetched two cloaks for the women to wear. "They will have ensconced themselves in some priest hole somewhere and won't come out until all of this is over. I do not think we can blame them."

"Wait," Amorette called as the Queen closed the clasp on the broach that held the cloak together around her neck. She began to fumble with the laces of her dress to remove her bodice. "Aramis if you'd be so good as to turn away?"

"What are you doing Amorette?" the Queen asked incredulously.

Amorette raised her eyes from her dress to glance at her friend shrewdly. "Swapping dresses with you. They know what colour skirts you are wearing Anne. With these cloaks on and with the hoods up, they will not know one woman from another except for the colour of her skirts. I hope it is only a precaution and that it will not be needed, but we may come to find we need such a one to buy you some time."

Aramis nodded in agreement. "Do it," he said as he turned away.

Planned deception complete, the party of three left the church and it's little yard behind it and moved on out into the city of Paris, letting Aramis take the lead through the deserted streets and across the river. From there they snaked out into open farm-land, turning back upon themselves every so often to ensure they weren't followed. Amorette occasionally tripped over the far too long hem of the Queen's skirts as she walked, Aramis' pistol held tightly in her hand and awaiting some form of ambush that appeared unlikely as they left the city unhindered. The Queen was now bone tired, not even considering the scandalous stretch of stocking that was now visible under Amorette's too short skirts at her ankles. With the trees now in sight, they all felt a little more reassurance that they might just make it to Versailles.

 ** _The swapping dresses thing was a scene I had in my head from the beginning and is the sole reason for this last arc, but ironically now I've cut it quite short because it fits with the story far better! I don't know why it was such a big deal in my head before!_**

 ** _In the next chapter, we will have the scene I promised between Aramis and the Queen, and Amorette may or may not be reunited with Athos! How that turns out will depend on how evil I'm feeling!_**


	68. Chapter 68

_**Do you ever get a vague quote or a saying in your head from a book or piece of film and can't remember where it's from? I'm so annoyed! There's something Aramis says in this chapter that was inspired by said quote but I can't remember for the life of me where it's from! It's really bugging me now!**_

 _ **So here goes, if any of you lovely people know where it's from; be it television, film or book, please let me know! It's a scene between a couple who are in love, and the man tells the woman that he reserves a side of himself only for when he is with her in private and that is hers alone. I think the quote is "I only smile in private" but I'm not sure if that's the exact wording and I'm sure it's part of a larger chunk of dialogue. I also think it might be at the end of the book/film but I cannot be sure. I did google it, but couldn't find it! I bet it's something really obvious too but it's completely grown legs and walked from my mind. As such I've shortened that part of this chapter in my annoyance because I couldn't read up on the concept to explain it properly!**_

 _ **Back to this chapter though; as promised, the scene between Aramis and the Queen (which I don't think is as good as it was in my head). Aren't you bloody lucky too, four chapters in a few days! I'm determined to get this story finished now so I can plan my next!7**_

 _ **Thanks so much for the reviews, follows and favourites! It really does make it feel worthwhile writing this when I see them!**_

 _ **Roberta Lozano; don't worry, the evil isn't to do with Athos at all. We will see Amorette reunited with him at some point because I couldn't do that to myself after all this writing. I'm thinking about two chapters or so before we see it (knowing how carried away I get that's more like four but it will happen!) I feel evil because there are a few character deaths coming up that might not be expected.**_

 _ **.el; the dress swap, as you will see does not cause problems but actually solutions for the time being. The problems arise in the next chapter.**_

 _ **Pallysdeeks; I do miss cranky and gruff Athos too! There's not been that much opportunity for him to be grumpy lately as there's been so much to deal with and of course he is happier now. Maybe we can see a bit of that side of him come the end of the story. I think he's only so cranky when there's nothing really that big to worry about. When issues arise, he galvanises into action.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

 _Was it possible for night to travel on until the end of time?_ That was what it had felt like to all three of them, surrounded by wilderness and silence. They had been extremely lucky to remain undetected as they trekked a parallel and slightly haphazardly random path some yards away from the main thoroughfare from Paris to Versailles. Amorette could not fathom how many hours they had walked for, but was sure it was many more than she had originally foreseen.

Aramis and the Queen trudged on a little ahead of her now, and she was beginning to feel the pull of the city that she had left behind. More than once she and Aramis had walked either side of the Queen and practically dragged the pregnant woman as her legs refused to carry her. Amorette knew that even Aramis had felt sheer terror over the course of the night as they wandered with only the light of the moon overhead to guide them. In that sense, they had been lucky too. They had stopped at short intervals here and there to catch their breath and gain their bearings once more with Aramis ensuring they didn't venture too far off course. Once or twice they had meandered a little way away from the road in a daze as they walked and Aramis had been the only one of them left with enough concentration within him to set them right again.

Both women were frustrated with their cumbersome clothing and in some of the more extreme moments when they had tripped over skirts or felt suffocated by their corsets; they had sworn that if they came across any buildings along the way they would seek out men's clothing within and change. Aramis had chuckled lightly and humoured them even though they all knew he would not let them do such a thing in fear of the danger it would put them all in. On the whole, Amorette wondered at Aramis' seemingly good mood when they still had so far to travel. There were so many times along the way when the notion had taken her so much that she almost had sat down where she stood and cried.

It was just before dawn that had been the worst. Even Aramis was showing signs of sheer exhaustion as they climbed uphill with panting, laboured breaths and found themselves upon an outcrop overlooking a valley of yet more forest. In the distance though, as Amorette's eyes followed Aramis' outstretched arm she glimpsed something otherwise alien to the landscape and almost felt her legs give way in relief. Just as that odd sort of light that was not darkness and was not yet day began to permeate their vision they were able to glimpse quite clearly the rooftops of not just one building but many.

There was no doubt they were looking upon the hunting lodge of Versailles and its surrounding outbuildings. It was still a fair distance away though, and Amorette was sure they would have at least another hour's walk ahead of them, if not two. They decided to leave the road behind entirely then, as all three could clearly see that cutting through the trees would enable them to reach their destination sooner. They had not gone far though when sounds that seemed to come from the road reached their ears.

"Do you think it's Athos?" Amorette asked to no one in particular as she stopped and turned in the direction she thought the road to be in.

"We've come too far now Madam to go in search of such an elusive answer. We do not know that it is Athos, or even anyone that we would think upon as a friend." Aramis gripped her shoulder gently for a few seconds in sympathy before he began to walk again, leaving Amorette standing in the one spot. The trees where there were thin, and even as the Queen and Aramis reached a fair distance without her, Amorette could still see them through the foliage as they climbed a steep slope. Amorette was convinced that Athos had passed by on the road; if for nothing more than the fact that Athos had told Aramis he would leave for Paris at first light if his friend had not returned to him. There was something more though, something about the sound of many hooves upon the tightly packed earth of the road and the speed at which the horses and their riders travelled. There was also something in the air, almost like a strange sense of hope that was decidedly prominent for a few seconds as the sound reached its crescendo. Even now it was beginning to fade, as if something were trying to tell Amorette that she had missed her chance. That sense of hope had been lacking within her now over the course of the last day; she realised. Despite all of her fight and determination she had not given a thought to seeing Athos again lest it distract her.

There were other sounds too. The sounds of wildlife had been with them all night and had been comforting in an odd way, but now the noises felt more forced, deliberate and too unlikely to be a wolf or large creature of some sort. Snapping twigs and the general sounds of a small army on the move; Amorette surmised as she turned to glance back at her friends who were now waiting at the top of the slope for her. If it had been Athos coming towards them through the trees, Amorette would have known it was him as she had done seconds before. No, this new threat was something new and certainly something to be feared.

She tore up the slope towards Aramis and the Queen, sure even as she took her first steps that she would never see the other side of the slope. Panting heavily as she reached the top and stopped to catch her breath, Amorette threw Aramis a look that she hoped he would understand, but his expression remained unreadable.

"We're being followed!" Amorette cried to both of them as she pulled at the top of her bodice and corset in the hopes of letting some more air flood her lungs. "You need to move quickly now! You need to run if you can Anne."

"Come then," Aramis called to them as he set off down the other side of the slope with one hand holding the Queen's elbow to guide her down. Amorette stayed where she was again, but this time her friends did not go on without her. "Madam," Aramis called to her as he stopped.

She shook her head even as she fought down the tears that she felt tears spring to her eyes. "You knew this moment might come Aramis. Don't pretend that you didn't."

"I do not think the situation calls for it Amorette!" he cried back angrily.

"What are you both talking about?" the Queen asked exasperatedly.

"I'm the distraction, don't you see?" pleaded Amorette. "That's why I had us change dresses. They will follow the colour of the Queen's skirts. I must go back and let them follow me. I can lead them away from you and back down the road, give you time to reach Versailles."

"No!" the Queen and Aramis both cried in unison.

"Amorette I was charged to bring you both to safety. You know that! I'm not letting you do this," Aramis moved back up the slope a few steps and reached out his hand to her. "With your help we can make Versailles in just as good a time as any."

Amorette was shaking her head again. "Aramis don't you get it? You're not here to protect me! You're here to protect her!" Amorette pointed half-heartedly towards the Queen. "This is not about me and never was. You need to get her to safety, and that's always been your priority. I don't factor into that. Look at the sky now Aramis! It's almost dawn. Athos will be gone back to Paris by now. I do not wish to be apart from him. Surely you must understand that just as much as it is your fate and your desire to be with the Queen right now, it is mine to return to Athos and see that he does not come to harm. You cannot deny me that, not now when it may just save both of your lives too!"

Aramis seemed to be at a loss for words, but the Queen understood. She pulled her elbow out of Aramis' grip and approached Amorette swiftly to throw her arms around her. The two women held each other for a long moment before they pulled away, the Queen crying profusely. "I will never forget that you have done this for me; for me and my child."

Aramis did not appear to be happy about the turn of events in the slightest, but they had little time to argue about it. "Here," he said quietly as he freed one of his pistols and placed the handle into Amorette's small hand. "Be careful, and stay alive. If you don't, Athos will kill me himself."

Amorette nodded resolutely and motioned to them to hurry as the sounds of men crashing through the undergrowth grew louder. "Go now before they have the chance to see you!"

Aramis turned again, leading the Queen by the elbow as he had done before but the Queen grappled through the air for Amorette's hand and clutched it tightly. "Will we ever see each other again Amorette?" she asked solemnly and Amorette replied only with a grim smile.

The Queen planted a swift kiss on her cheek and Amorette began to turn away from them when she felt another hand touch her shoulder. Aramis too placed a kiss upon her cheek before they were gone, stumbling down the slope and into the denser foliage at the bottom. Amorette sucked in a deep breath, finding that oddly her own eyes were tearless. She had done much crying in her life, but now was not the time for it even though she felt that if she sat down to cry, she would not stop. There was not time for such sentimentality now. She began to move again, back the way she had come and dared to venture closer to the road than she had done all night. Without Aramis she could hardly hope to make her way back to the outskirts of Paris alone. Instead she would use the road as a guide.

Even though she was well aware she was now at infinitely more risk, there was that strange bubble of excitement rising in her chest that she was taking closer steps towards Athos. Likely on horseback, he would reach Paris in perhaps a quarter of the time that it would take Amorette to walk the road and would perhaps have galvanised whatever military force there was still left in Paris back into action. With any luck she would walk back into a city that was once again free. Amorette was under no illusions though. She had a long trek ahead of her with no food and only the water from the streams and rivers that they had come across on their night-time walk if she could remember where they were located.

Following the road soon became a foolish notion for Amorette. She would not find a source of water that way, and she was also a sitting target. Thus she retreated to the tree line again, hopeful that she could catch a glimpse of someone she knew riding along the road. It began to dawn upon her how strange it was that the King had not petitioned the armies of Comte and Ducs who resided nearby to raise their armies up to ride on Paris and free it from the Spanish siege, but then she supposed it was still early in the morning.

On and on Amorette walked, unsure whether she was followed or not and bereft of any company at all. The road was deserted, and she couldn't really find it within herself to be shocked by that. The Louvre Palace was under siege and Versailles would likely have been closed too in fear of attack. Amorette just hoped that she had bought her friends enough time to reach their destination safely and bring the King some news. Treville had already been at Versailles when Paris was attacked, but surely the news alone would galvanise the military man into action in no time at all. He had always been fiercely loyal but Amorette was certain that the musketeer captain was not about to let the city he had served for thirty years be seized by Spanish hands because the King was reluctant to retaliate. If Paris really did fall, then it was the key to the rest of France. Whilst the house of Bourbon held Paris, they still stood a chance.

"I should go back out there," mumbled Aramis forlornly. "See if I can find her…"

The wrought iron gates that safeguarded Versailles clanged shut behind them and the musketeer guard that was permanently stationed at the hunting lodge fell into line again, alert and watchful of the road.

"I need you with me Aramis," the Queen said tiredly as she began to walk ahead of the musketeer for the first time since they had escaped Paris. Aramis did not fall into line with her. Here, back in front of the eyes of the king once more he was no longer the father of her children or her lover and friend. He might be her saviour, but he was a musketeer all the same. As such his place was behind her; between her and the gates in a protective stance but also as a mark of respect. One musketeer had left his post and raced up the long carriageway towards the lodge to bring the news of the Queen's arrival to one of the grooms up ahead.

"If something were to become of her, it would be my fault though."

The Queen turned back to him with an expression of pure anguish. "I didn't want to leave her Aramis. I know you didn't want to either. She would not have come with us though. In part I think it was always her intention to separate from us at some point. Why else would she have had me give her my dress. She was right about that you know; those men will follow the colour of the skirts as long as she keeps her hood up and they do not see the darkness of her hair. She has gone in search of her love and what she said was right. You and I would not wish to be parted from one another at such a time. What's more we have our children with us now. We are together and assured of one another's safety. We cannot deny Amorette the same thing."

Aramis started to speak as they walked, but the Queen held up her hand for silence. "I know you feel guilty Aramis and I do too but I will not force one of my closest friends and allies to do my bidding if it will pain her. After everything that she has done for me, and everything that I have put her through in repayment, she at least deserves this. I see Amorette as an equal now. That is a strange feeling for me, when really she and I are so far removed from one another. She has such strength within her that I have not seen in my life before. I would not be standing here with you right now if it were not for her Aramis. Amorette's strength served to fill me with a unique kind of determination and I think I look upon things differently now. Yes, with us she might have survived but what use is survival if she has no one to share her life with."

Aramis stopped walking just short of the doors, eyeing the grooms that stood upon the threshold warily. "I feel Anne, that this may well be the last time we are alone together for a very long time," Aramis whispered gently as he turned to look back upon the gates in an apparent survey of the land around them. His mind though, was certainly not upon the landscape. "We will certainly not be permitted time alone here at Versailles, and if we do travel back to a rescued Paris, I and my fellow musketeers will certainly have much work before us to recover the city and hunt down all of the mercenaries and Spanish men who have hatched this plot. That will be my one and only duty and you cannot be ignorant of that fact. Captain Treville trusts myself and my three friends implicitly. I speak fluent Spanish so it is likely I might be sent to Spain or at least the border towns. This right here…"

Aramis faltered, his gaze slowly sliding sideways to observe the tumultuous wave of emotions that washed over the face of the woman that he had come to love and respect. "This right here might indeed be the last moment we ever do have alone in one another's company."

The Queen surged forward to take Aramis' hand. "Aramis don't say that!"

Aramis swiftly placed more distance between them. "Anne we cannot be seen to be affectionate here. You risk too much. All of what you have said, I take onboard. I want you to try and think upon something though. Soon you will be mother to two beautiful children who will need their mother to be strong and determined and provide them with such an example. No matter what happens to me, you must not just survive but live your life. A part of me will remain with you in our children and you must take that as comfort and glean from it all that you can. Do not doubt yourself again. Amorette has an unparalleled strength I agree, but you have a different kind of resilience. You are a mother. That is something that can never be taken from you. In that respect it matters not who the father of those children is. It is your love that must see them through the toughest trails of their lives and in order to do so effectively you must live life yourself. Surviving is not enough for a woman of such grace and beauty as yourself. You are an anointed Queen and as long as you recall that at your most despairing moments, I feel sure that you shall be just fine alone.

"I suppose what I'm saying is that you're wrong; in regard of our relationship at least. If I were to leave you, you could find strength in our children. If I leave you in one form or another that does not mean that your life is over. Our lives are in fact not our own now. We owe it to our children to ensure that we live our lives as we wish them to live theirs. For Amorette, Athos always has been and always will be her life. In her mind, there's no alternative and a life without him seems impossible. Anne do we not disagree though? Have we not seen before us in Amorette the strongest and fiercest young woman that there ever might have been. She's a force to be reckoned with even at the worst of times and thus, I think even without Athos in her life she would be just fine. It is her that we would need to convince of such a thing. If any ill were to befall Athos, she will believe that she cannot go on. You know this. If you do come to meet with her again; and God I pray that you do, for once you might have to be strong for her. You must show her what everyone else sees in her, what Athos sees in her. Perhaps if they had a child it would be different, but as it is they both count upon one another a great deal more than either of them have yet come to comprehend. Be a friend to her even if she does not want it."

The Queen nodded even as she detested Aramis' chosen topic of conversation. He was preparing for the worst and she could understand that but she knew deep down that he did not even believe what he said. He had faith in his friends and also in himself. "Aramis, we will find a way through all of this. I believe in us and I believe in all of our friends. I agree though that here at Versailles in such close proximity with the King we shall not be able to seek comfort in one another so readily. The building and the park here are so small compared to the Louvre, but this is not the end of us Aramis. You should not talk so. I know you do not wish me to hope, but what do we have if we do not have hope. I want things to go back to the way they were – no I do not wish that! I wish I had not been born a Spanish princess at all and that I were free to be married to who I wished; to bare the child of the man that I love without secrecy and scheme! Those things cannot be though!"

"If those things had not come to pass," replied Aramis a little tersely, "Would you have come to meet the man that you love?"

The Queen shook her head knowingly. "No I would not and that is why life is so cruel."

"Unjust and unfair, but it is still a life!" Aramis confirmed. "It may not seem it Anne, but you do in fact have the luck of two lives. No, hear me out on this. You have the life you share with me and the secrets and privacy that we ourselves keep but you also have a life beyond those doors. You know I am not the type of man who wishes to diminish women and punish them just for their sex. Naturally I believe you still live a life of advantage as Queen. You have power and influence beyond measure as the Queen of France that you shall see fall into place as soon as you walk through those doors. You demand and cultivate respect wherever you roam and that is not something that many women have. Even some Queens of this world must envy the freedom that you still seem to somehow acquire. As a Queen married to a King and a husband that you do not love you are in a precarious position but why not use it as you have done all these years. Keep your real and true smiles for the eyes of those that truly love and respect you as you always do. Continue to be the Queen that you were born to be in public and reap the rewards."

The sun was beginning to rise above the horizon, and a shadow crossed their paths suddenly. Looking up, they found Treville standing just outside the doors, watching them intently.

"We should go in," the Queen replied solemnly. "There is news we must pass on."

She turned away, the mask already in place and Aramis followed her up the steps towards his captain who spared him a sympathetic glance before turning to lead them into the main hall of the lodge. The King was seated at the long table with the Vicomte de Turenne and some other noblemen that Aramis did not know. He was willing to guess though that they were local landholders who had not been in Paris when it had been attacked. There was also another man in military uniform not unlike Treville's. The blue cloak led Aramis to believe that he may just have been the captain of the local musketeer regiment.

All men seated at the table except the King rose to their feet as the Queen entered the room and waked the length of it to stand before them. The King glanced up from the maps he was pouring over and offered a small smile to his wife. "I am glad to see you and the child have made it here and are well Anne. I was worried."

The Queen held back a very unladylike snort. "Your majesty, had you attempted to remain in Paris to see your wife to safety then you would surely not have had to worry so much. As it is, your entire court including some of our closest friends and some of your family remain under siege in the Louvre with these Spanish plotters. We must act to free them."

The King nodded his understanding, but the Queen knew he would not comply. "Whilst I do regret that and am gravely disturbed by the knowledge that some of my cousins remain within the Louvre, there is at present no clear objective in returning to Paris. We must establish a council here of what trustworthy men we can find and from there debate the cause."

"With all due respect your majesty," said Aramis rather unexpectedly as he stepped forward. "There are women and children within the Louvre; countless numbers of them. The Spanish are not there to hold them to ransom! They wish to place a Valois heir upon the French throne once more and with you hiding here in Versailles they can do just that very easily. They will kill all within the Palace, especially those who claim a familial connection to yourself. I think in this we must attack as soon as we can possibly do so."

Treville stepped forward to place a hand firmly on Aramis' shoulder as the King opened his mouth in preparation of an angry retort. "Your majesty you must forgive Aramis' rash words. He has been attempting to escort the Queen to safety since yesterday. They've spent a night in the wilderness in the hopes of reaching Versailles and he is distressed and out of sorts. What he says has some weight but he is not thinking clearly."

"Of course I thank you for your service," the King addressed Aramis then. "You musketeers have never failed in serving the crown. I understand that you are weary and frustrated but if the situation in Paris really is so dire, how on earth did you get the Queen out of the Palace?"

"I cannot claim that as my own action you majesty. I believe it was the Queen herself and the Cometess de La Feuillette who escaped the Palace of their own accord. I happened to come across them as they made their escape through the city streets." Aramis conveniently left out the fact that he had left his friends with every intention of seeking out the Queen to bring her to safety and instead let his words settle amongst the men at the table.

Treville pulled out a chair and presented it to the Queen who smiled gratefully and sat. "The Cometess and I were locked in a room within the old part of the Louvre," the Queen elaborated. "It was the Cometess who thought to cause a distraction so that those men might consider moving us to different rooms. I pleaded with them that in my condition I required comfort and the familiarity of my own apartments and like the fools that they are, they moved us. Then it only remained for the Cometess and I to leave via the secret passageway situated there. As Aramis said, he came upon us as we were escaping the city."

"Then where is the Cometess?" The Vicomte de Turenne asked suddenly. The Queen raised a hand to cover her mouth as a sob escaped and more tears fell. "Your majesty, I know the Cometess was a close confidante of yours, I offer my condolences-"

"She's not dead!" Aramis cried bitterly. "She simply had more conviction than any man in this room!"

"Aramis!" Treville tightened his hold on Aramis's shoulder in warning as the King's eyes flashed in annoyance.

"You know that she loves the musketeer Athos," the Queen supplied. "She has gone back to be with him, and she might have saved mine and Aramis' life in the process. She had us swap dresses so that in the event of an attack of some sort she could act as a distraction and they would take her instead of me. Someone was following us this morning and she parted from us to try and lead them away. She intended to return to Paris if she could to find Athos."

Aramis did not miss the flash of anger in Treville's eyes. "I hope you will not think me bold your majesty," Treville called, "But perhaps as the Queen has had such an ordeal it would be wise to offer her some refreshment and somewhere to rest for a time?"

"Quite right!" nodded the Vicomte de Turenne. "Your majesty, if you will permit it, I will show you to some rooms that will be for your own private use."

Treville pulled Aramis back towards the doors then as the Queen was escorted out, careful not to turn back and glance at Aramis as she went. "What the hell happened?" Treville asked his musketeer as they wandered outside into the vestibule.

Aramis ran a shaking hand over tired and weary eyes. "What the Queen says is true in essence. I did go to the end of that secret passageway to try and intercept her and take her to safety though."

"And the Cometess?" Treville asked.

Aramis shook his head as he grimaced. "Neither the Queen nor I would have been able to convince her to stay with us. I do think she intended to become a distraction from the beginning. She did it to buy us more time but I cannot stop thinking about her out there alone."

"How long ago did this occur? If I sent some men in pursuit of her, might they catch up with her?"

"Captain she left of her own accord," Aramis replied. " I do not think she would come here even if I went to fetch her myself. She took some notion that Athos might be already headed back to Paris and shortly after she left us. Normally I would think it a wholly foolish action but I cannot fault her devotion to him. The Queen was truthful. She likely saved our lives out there but she wears the Queen's skirts. Whoever it was that followed us will have followed her in the belief that she is the Queen. I'm not sure how much faith I can put in her reaching Paris despite her determination. I trust Athos did as he said he would and left at first light?"

It was Treville's turn to look a little guilty. "No, he left earlier than that. The King ordered in the early hours of the morning that Athos, Porthos and D'artagnan take his mistress to a house a little away from here where he believes she will be safe-"

"I'm sorry?" Aramis roared, suddenly furious. "The King sent his best musketeers to take his mistress to safety when they were supposed to be protecting him; when he thought his wife and unborn child were still locked within the Louvre Palace and in danger?"

"he is the King and therefore we must allow for some of his indulgences Aramis-"

"Indulgences?" Aramis ran a hand though his hair as he turned to look out towards the road. "Please tell me captain that you see how ridiculous that all sounds! Oh God! Amorette! The Cometess is on her way to Paris in search of Athos and he likely isn't even there!"

"Aramis there was no intention of Athos and the others staying with the mistress! They were to return here once they had delivered her to her cousin's home. The house is not far from here on horseback. They should have been back hours ago. I think it likely that they have in fact taken it upon themselves to return to Paris."

Treville smiled a little then, and Aramis caught his captain's meaning. "You told them not to return to the King, to go back to Paris?"

"If I did Aramis," Treville said with his coy smile still in place. "The King cannot know that I undermined him; not even in this."

 _ **I need to stop promising what will be within the next chapter! This one was just too long to add more too, and finished in the right place I think! So, I won't promise**_ __ _ **that In the next chapter Amorette returns to Paris and meets some old faces and we see whether she will be reunited with Athos or not!**_

 _ **I should also apologise in advance for with the next chapters, character deaths will begin!**_


	69. Chapter 69

_**Just a warning that this chapter gets quite violent at the end, but I don't personally think it's that bad. We also have a character death :'(**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Gold silk skirts went unnoticed as Amorette trailed through Paris again, approaching the left bank of the Seine with trepidation. The little pearls and rubies that had been sewn into the embroidery of the Queen's skirts twinkled and glowed in the sunshine, almost like a beacon in the deserted streets. Amorette had never before seen Paris like this. There was not a soul in sight and all of the homes, shops, offices and businesses were closed with the windows shuttered. Evidently, the people of Paris had locked themselves away in the hope that the troubles would simply outdo themselves within a few days. She couldn't help herself wandering a little out of her way into the Latin quarter and to the musketeer garrison. It was entirely deserted as she expected it to be and she also knocked upon the doors of Sacha Rouzet's lodgings but there too she received no answer.

Now there was nothing else for her to do but approach one of the bridges and cross over to the right bank of the river where the Louvre Palace sat. Although Amorette knew very well that had been the very reason for her return to Paris, there was still something within her that was scared to put one foot in front of the other and make such a journey. She stopped to glance about her as she stood on the Quay and ascertained that she had made the journey from Versailles in only a few hours. The journey made the night before had been naturally elongated due to the fact that they had been stumbling around in the dark and had been exhausted beyond measure. Now though, Amorette had such a sense of purpose within her despite her fears. She wanted to find Athos more than anything else, and once she had done that; together they could begin to think of trying to help those still trapped within the Louvre Palace.

How to go about finding the musketeer though? It was likely he was already cultivating some scheme to get himself inside the Palace if he was not already there and for that reason alone Amorette's feet found their way onto the Pont Neuf. She was not oblivious to the dark clouds that were beginning to roll in across the sky, adding a strange colouring as she walked across the bridge. She tried her hardest not to think of the dreams that had plagued her for the last few years and tried to focus her mind on how she was going to get inside the Palace again. There was the most obvious choice of course; the way that she and the Queen had left the Palace in the first place. That was risky, considering that their absence would have been discovered long ago and the passageway was most likely guarded because of it. Another option was to let herself be caught and walk straight through the doors of the Louvre. Amorette knew that the Spanish had wanted her alive but after she had escaped and taken the Queen with her who they also wanted, she wasn't so sure they'd be that keen to keep her alive. They might just kill her on sight. Amorette resolved that option was not one she could likely take.

The only other option that appeared open to her in that moment was to skirt around the perimeter fence of the Palace and hope that she could find some form of unguarded passage into the grounds at least. Doing so without being caught would be a tricky thing indeed when Amorette was not even entirely sure how many men the Spanish had, or how many Italians were aiding them. She did turn to look at the ships they had travelled up the Seine in though. The masts and sails of the galleons travelled on as far as her eye could see and she guessed that there were at least a good few hundred men needed to crew them all and bring them into berth here in Paris. Of course, that had to include any Scottish men that Henry Fitzgerald had persuaded to come along too but Amorette didn't think that could amass to a very large amount at all. Scotland and England currently had their own troubles that they were preoccupied with. If all of this failed which she hoped it would, any Scots and Englishmen involved would cause quite the headache for the English King.

"You lied to me!" rasped a thickly accented voice from behind Amorette suddenly. She whirled around where she stood, conscious that with her hood still up she should still remain unknown to many. Before her again was Shauna, pistol pointed firmly at Amorette's head. Did sauna think that she was the Queen? "You told me you'd go for help! You told me you would help Henry if you could!"

Amorette's question answered, she gazed into the now cold eyes of the young red-head before her and felt not just an overwhelming sense of pity for Shauna, but guilt. After all, it was her fault that Shauna and Henry had come to meet each other in the first place. The hand that held the pistol was incredibly steady though, Amorette noted and was slightly shamed at the knowledge that her own hand which hid Aramis's pistol within the folds of her skirts was shaking uncontrollably. Shauna was not someone who had wanted to cause hurt or harm to anyone and Amorette knew already that she would not be able to point a weapon at the other woman and maim or kill her. Shauna had after all ventured onto the Paris streets to try and stop Henry from attacking Paris.

She took in more of the woman's appearance as they stood before one another and came to the rather obvious conclusion that Shauna had spent a restless night on the streets of Paris. "Shauna?" Amorette tried soothingly. "Shauna have you had no word from Henry since last we spoke?"

"I bet you've seen him haven't you, Cometess?" Shauna sneered venomously. "Seen him and walked on past most likely. You turned tail and ran instead of helping one of your oldest friends!"

"No look here," said Amorette pointedly as she unknowingly took a step closer to the Irishwoman. She could feel her temper beginning to shift and tried to keep her words calm and void of any anger. "I chose to do the only thing I could and get an innocent and pregnant mother to safety. As a woman, surely you cannot hate me for that? Henry is no longer innocent Shauna! The truth is that what I said to you yesterday morning is probably a lie! There more than likely is no way out of this for him at all! He's a dead man Shauna!"

Amorette didn't know where her words had come from, but she thought she could likely attribute them to her tiredness and weakness. She no longer cared for politeness that covered up all manner of things and threw cation to the winds. "Shauna the best thing for you to do would be to put that pistol down and run. Run to somewhere safe and hide it out until all of this is over. When it is, if I can I will help you in whatever way I can. I can help you get home!"

Shauna advanced a few steps and her nostrils flared. Her eyes widened in anger and she let out a cruel laugh that had Amorette backing up a few steps wearily. "That's what you all do isn't it; even Henry? You throw money at a solution and hope it resolves itself! Even in dire situations like this when a man faces his death you still think money is the solution! No Cometess! The reality is that rather than help Henry I think now it is likely that you would seal his own death warrant yourself if you could! The woman you helped to escape was the Queen was it not? You helped her rather than your old friend. Now you play her games too, wandering about Paris in the Queen's own dresses like some sort of walking target! That's the reality of all this, you cannot be allowed to live!"

Amorette pushed her arm upwards to point Aramis' pistol in Shauna's direction in the hope that it would serve as a warning to the Irishwoman but she was too late. Shauna barrelled into her and forced her against the balustrade of the bridge. Pushing Amorette's arm back with force, she was able to knock the pistol out of her hands and it tumbled through the air and landed in the river far below them with a resounding splash.

Amorette's blood ran cold in that fraction of a second. Leaning backwards over the stone balustrade, she was offered a view of the sky above her which was steadily growing darker as the clouds rolled in to obscure the sun. second by second the light diminished slightly, the daylight growing darker as heavy rain threatened to fall. The darker light changed the whole outlook of the city and it closely came to resemble early morning, just like Amorette's dream.

Shauna was going to throw her over the side into the river and she would fall to the water just as she had watched herself do so many times in her sleep. Amorette gasped as Shauna applied more weight and Amorette thought she could feel the stone beneath her back begin to shift. She cried out an intelligible garble of words as she felt herself almost begin to fall over the edge before a shot rang out into the air.

For the next few seconds there was still silence and Amorette was at a loss as to what had happened. Had Shauna finally used the pistol she carried to shoot her? Or had Amorette shot Shauna? Amorette felt no pain though, and glancing down as blood began to pool across Shauna's chest she glanced towards the other side of the bridge to where a group of Spanish men stood, one holding a smoking musket. Shauna swayed where she stood and Amorette pushed her own hands against the woman's shoulders to steady her but in her tiredness, the weight was too much. In that moment, she had only one option left open to her as the dead, glassy eyes of the Irishwoman stared back at her unseeing. She kept pushing with all of her might, all the while shuffling sideways so that she no longer bore the brunt of Shauna's weight. She felt bile rise in her throat as her shoulder was the only thing keeping the body upright. The old injury that had lain dormant for a while now began to twinge again as the weight of the body threatened to push Amorette over the side of the balustrade and into the water with it.

Amorette recalled the fear she had experienced all those years ago on top of that roof with the Italian boy who tried to kill her, and of how her shoulder had burned at the slightest of touches for months afterwards. Physicians had looked at her shoulder countless times as a child and had told her it was all in her mind, as if her memory reserved the right to still remind her of what had happened; as if she had some way to change the events of that day. Despite the pain in her shoulder she suddenly forced her arm out as she slid free, hoping to catch Shauna before she fell. It was no use. Shauna was a lot taller than Amorette and thus there was much more leverage pulling her towards the water. She plummeted from the bridge and Amorette dropped to her knees as the sickening thud of the body hitting the surface of the water reached her. In her mind she recalled her dream, of how she had fallen from the bridge, the sky the last thing she had glimpsed before she collided with the water. She knew just how much terror she had felt even in the dreams. No one deserved that fate, not even I if they were already dead as Shauna had been.

Amorette felt herself reeling sideways a little as the world spun on its axis. It took everything she had to stay upright on her knees with the stones digging into her kneecaps through the Queen's skirts. Before, she had not allowed herself the privilege of crying but now she wanted to. The tears would not come though even as she screwed up her face and let out a wail.

"I thought I told you not to harm her?" Henry roared as he raced across the bridge. He must have witnessed what happened from the other side. He began to move towards Amorette, his eyes roving slowly as he assessed the scene. Amorette had thought he had been talking about her; or rather the Queen as he currently thought she was but as he raced to the side of the bridge and stared out over the balustrade she realised he had been speaking of Shauna. So, there was a part of him that cared for her. Amorette felt the oddest sensation then of a demonic sort of glee. Henry had been the reason Shauna was back in Paris in the first place. She had followed him blindly and had walked to her death. Henry might not have shot her himself, but Shauna's death was most definitely upon him. Amorette knew that he knew it too. He didn't cry though, as she thought he might have done. No, there could be no emotion shown before the Spanish men that held all of the cards to what Henry wanted more than anything. That was when Amorette truly decided once and for all that she no longer knew the Scotsman, that she was done with him entirely. If he wanted her help in anything, he could sing for it. The first chance she got; if she got one was to sing his name from the rooftops of Paris and ensure he was justifiably punished for all of this.

"Your Majesty you're going to need to put that pistol down. No one here will harm you, but you will comply with our plans without argument." He seemed to have recovered himself and now hovered above Amorette, holding out a hand to help her to her feet. Her hands were still shaking uncontrollably, more from anger now than fear but she supposed it must have looked well to the men watching on, for they believed her to be the Queen. She tried to stamp down on her own temper and outspokenness then as she knew that was not the behaviour of a Queen. Anne of Austria was a meek and mild creature at the best of times and these men before her would be expecting as such. They would be expecting a frightened little mouse, so that was what she became.

Amorette was entirely baffled that Shauna had known her for her own self but Henry thought that beneath the hood stood the Queen. Of course a woman's intuition and observation skills were different to that of a man, perhaps even better. Shauna would not have overlooked the skirt hems that were too long as a man might do in such a situation. As it was, she was pulled to her feet and marched from the bridge as the men would have done if they had in fact found the real Queen, but when they reached the right bank of the Seine and the Louvre Palace loomed above them, they turned not towards it, but away from it. Amorette began to panic a little as beneath her hood she watched the feet of the men in front of her marching them into what she thought was the Les Halles market square and onwards. She could not decide on which particular street they stood because the hood fell too low over her eyes for her to see anything above the men's waists.

They did not walk for long though and soon enough Amorette was shuffled up some steps and into what appeared to be a set of recently vacated offices. They had perhaps still been occupied the day before because right inside the door stood desks littered with parchment, ink pots and quills. There was still the faintest scent of burning from where a fire had died in the grate at some point over the course of the night. Amorette was pushed into the side, coming up sharply against a bookcase of thickly bound red leather books that looked very official indeed as she heard the sound of someone clattering up a flight upstairs onto the floor above. A lawyers or accountant's office then? Or perhaps the office belonged to a member of court or the privy council? No, Amorette thought her first guess more likely. As they waited and the Spanish men muttered amongst themselves in whispers, Amorette noticed paper strewn all over the floor and one chair overturned. Whoever worked here had perhaps been here early yesterday morning when the Spanish came into the city and had left in a hurry to lock themselves away.

Amorette wracked her brain as she stood waiting, trying to remember just where Sacha Rouzet's offices were located. She had seen him in court in all his glory and had been to his home but she had never been inside his offices or anywhere near them at all. Even regarding her own legal matters, Amorette had always met Sacha elsewhere. Just as much as these offices might be Sacha's though, they could also belong to any other lawyer in Paris. Amorette knew all of those offices were not far from each other though and so she set her mind to work.

The Hôtel de Ville, which was still undergoing building work seemed the most likely area to Amorette. Located not far from Les Halles, it would explain the short walk and Amorette was almost sure that Sacha's offices were close to that location. If she were not standing in those very offices now, she suspected that she was at least close by. Was that where Sacha was hiding; in his offices? Even if she were to somehow get free, Amorette had no way of knowing which offices belonged to her friend and she cursed herself for not paying more attention.

Footsteps retreated back down the staircase were followed by Henry's gruff voice. "Upstairs, they're ready."

Amorette was pulled away from the bookcase and beneath the hood she watched for the stairs appearing at her feet. She made slow steps, as the Queen likely would have done being heavily pregnant but really it was so she could ensure that she did not trip over the long hem of the skirts. She needed to remain demure and silent and not draw attention to herself. The minute that happened, she would likely be rumbled.

The stone steps were rather wide in comparison to the office downstairs and it occurred to Amorette as they climbed that perhaps the downstairs offices were entirely separate to the upper floors of the building. When they did reach the second floor, it was to find a large and airy room that was filled with what little daylight there was under the grey and brooding clouds. Amorette glimpsed six pairs of feet stood in a line at the end of the room and the legs of a chair that she was unceremoniously deposited into a few seconds later. Still she made no sound, listening intently as the men talked in Spanish. They did not say anything out of the ordinary and Amorette knew that was because they still thought her to be the Queen and didn't want her to overhear integral information. Her many Spanish lessons as a child had all come to no use then. Henry Fitzgerald was quiet, and Amorette had the feeling he was now standing somewhere behind her.

"Your Majesty," said a disembodied voice said in thickly accented Spanish. "We are pleased to make your acquaintance at last. I must say, these last few hours have been gravely worrying for us for we thought at some points we had lost you for good. Now though we have you here where you are safe with us."

Had Amorette been herself in that moment, she'd have retorted very hotly that she was indeed nowhere near safe. She was not herself though. These men thought her to be the Queen and as she still looked to the floor in a show of meekness and fear she suddenly hoped the hood stayed up for as long as possible so that she could gather as much information as she could. It was to be short-lived though, as a pair of black booted feet approached Amorette where she sat, and she sucked in a harsh breath as fingers gripped the hood and pulled it down so that her head was revealed to the room.

There could be no delay in realisation of their mistake. Her hair was much too dark to belong to Anne of Austria and hung in tangles and clumps from her night in the wilderness. The same voice as before spoke from above her, but his tone was not cordial as it had been seconds ago. Instead it was a barely controlled growl. "You fools! You have brought me the wrong woman!"

Amorette thought she distinctly heard Henry's groan of despair from behind her as a younger Spanish voice spoke. "You're sure padre? Is this not some form of disguise perhaps? A wig?"

Amorette let out a yelp as a hand yanked sharply upon her hair to pull her head up and her face into the light of the room. "Yes boy, I'm sure! Does this look like a Spanish woman to you; or a Queen for that matter?"

The older man who had spoken held her hair tightly in his fist, his face just inches from Amorette's as he threw a thunderous look behind her to the men who had brought Amorette to him. Then he turned his furious eyes upon her.

"You're really sure?" asked another younger voice.

She saw the older man's nostrils flare in anger and Amorette realised she recognised him from her time in Spain; _Garcia Casales_. He pulled her head back even further and shook it a little. "Are you the Queen of France you little chit? Are you? Tell my sons!"

Amorette grinned then and turned her head as much as she could in the direction of the younger men. "No, I'm not the Queen of fran-"

The punch came entirely by surprise and knocked Amorette from the chair entirely. The world fell into a haze as she brought a hand up to clutch the side of her head where she had been hit twice in the course of just over twenty-four hours. The but of Shauna's musket had been nothing to the force of the Spaniard's fist. He was good looking even in his elder years and as strong as a man half his age which Amorette recalled from first meeting him in Spain. His punches certainly proved his strength had no match and Amorette thought it feeble to try and fight him as he pulled her up by the scruff of her cloak and dumped her back into the chair. She thought she might have fallen to the floor again if a slick piece of rope had not encircled her hands within a few seconds, tying her tightly to the chair. Amorette gave an involuntary hiss of pain as Garcia Casales tightened his final knot and she felt the burn of the rope as it drew blood from her wrists.

"How did this happen?" he asked the room at large.

It was Henry who seemed to have the only courage to speak in the room. "Señor she wears the Queen's clothing. We assumed the Madam was the Queen herself."

"And you didn't think to check?" Garcia roared in anger, his eyes almost popping as a vein throbbed in his neck. "Wait, you called her Madam? You know this woman?"

Henry edged towards her then, as if he needed to see her face to be absolutely sure and then he nodded briskly. "This is the Cometess de la Feuillette. We go back a few years."

"Do you now?" sneered Garcia. He grabbed the scruff of Amorette's cloak again, his face so close to hers that she felt the spittle when he talked. "It turns out she and I do too! This is the woman those Italians locked in with the Queen, isn't it? Madam Cometess, do you know what I did to those boys for their incompetence in letting you escape? Do you?" Amorette was forced to shake her head fearfully as the brown eyes stared at her with such an intensity it was as if he could reach into her body and rip out her very soul. "I took their heads clean off their bodies for their incompetence. Perhaps we should do the same to you so that you do not trouble us anymore?"

He gave Amorette a rough shake and she had to force the bile back down into her stomach. "Father we need her, you know this," said one of the sons and the father released her again, only to throw another punch. Amorette fell again, taking the chair with her this time as she was tied to it. She couldn't help the cries of pain that she unwillingly gave as he began to kick and punch at whatever part of her that he could reach. To Amorette it seemed as if the beating lasted forever, only stopping as she spat blood onto the tiled floor beneath her.

"Father stop, how many times do we have to tell you! We need her do we not?" said one of the sons again.

As Garcia pulled away the younger man moved towards her and she felt herself shrinking back from him but he only righted the chair with her in it, so that she was upright once again. The younger men were both very much alike, and handsome. The elder son was perhaps her own age or a little older, whilst the younger of the two could not have been any older than twenty-five.

"I've decided I don't care if we need her or not!" Garcia spat.

One of the other Spaniards stepped forward, a man much closer to Garcia's age. "We do need her Mi Señor. Do not forget there is still the Spanish girl to find!" _Did he mean_ _Marie?_

Amorette spat out some more blood as she watched them all, disgust for Spain beginning to grow inside her stomach so much so that she agreed with herself next time she felt ill, she would let the bile rise and would be sick over their shoes or into their faces if she could manage it.

"You k…know," she stammered painfully, "I've never understood why m…me…men think that violence will work. I've known violent men all my life Señor … and I doubt you will be the last I encounter. It does not mean anything to me. Throw your punches and your kicks. You will get nothing from me. You are just a brute!"

Garcia launched himself at her again and Amorette reacted just in time to spit her own blood in his face. He wiped it away from his cheek with a sneer and laughed rather crudely. "You will tell us where the Queen is or you will die."

Amorette shook her head at him as he hovered over her. "I do not know where the Queen is. We left the Palace together, that much is true but we were separated shortly afterwards. We ran into the forest and we got lost from each other. It was dark and cold, and I ended up coming full circle back to Paris I was so lost. There's nothing more for me to tell you! I swear it!"

He had her by the scruff of the neck yet again and the chair swung so that it only rested on the two back legs. He leaned over Amorette so repulsively that she began to kick out at him even though she knew he was too strong. "What do you think little Madam? That your lover will come to save you? Or some dashing Vicomte eh? Let me tell you this. No one will save you. He will not come, whoever he is. You will die here in this room if you do not tell us what we want to know."

Amorette was under no illusions that anyone was coming to her rescue. Athos didn't even know where she was, and Henry certainly wasn't going to help after he had just stood by and watched her being beaten so soundly. Amorette yet again shook her head, her jaw setting in a determined frown. "I'm no fool Señor. I know that no one comes for me. I am not here to be rescued. I was the distraction. My Queen is free and safe and that is what matters to me. If I must die to ensure that she remains so, then so be it. No one comes for me. I know that I am alone. There are more important things in life you see. Paris, and the King and Queen will be saved and that is all that matters. I am not of importance in the grand scheme of things!"

She felt a jolt of pain in her chest even as she said it, as if voicing it aloud somehow made it real for herself also. She did not outwardly show it and was satisfied when Garcia was angered by her clipped retort. He let the chair fall to the ground and bean to punch and kick again, but Amorette didn't cry out this time, taking strength in the fact that she had infuriated him. Just as she thought she could withstand it all, the cold sliver of metal against her neck stopped all those thoughts entirely.

The knife drew a little blood as it scratched the skin of her neck. Garcia climbed on top of her, his own satisfied smirk now in place. "Cry out for him, for the man you love. Do it? I want to hear your desperation. Cry for him."

Amorette clamped her jaw shut and tore her eyes away from Garcia to look anywhere else around the room. Her eyes caught Henry's for a fraction of a second before he turned away from her and Amorette decided she hated him. Garcia moved, pressing a knee into her diaphragm to force all of the air out of her lungs. Amorette sucked in racking breaths but the air wouldn't come and she felt panic setting in as she gasped for breath.

"Father you must stop this! We need her! Did you not hear her, she will not respond to this treatment!"

Garcia ignored the cries of his son. "Cry for him!" he roared into Amorette's face and still she said nothing. "You do not even cry tears. I know what might make you cry. Will I put my hand up your skirts and touch you as he does? Will I take you here on the cold floor of this decrepit building? Will you cry for him then?" The knife began to press harder and Amorette thought her heart might burst from her chest it was beating so hard and fast. Still she uttered not a word until Garcia began to move above her. He scrambled to his feet and yanked Amorette's ankle hard into his grip. Her cries of pain echoed around the room as he dragged her the full length of it towards the windows at the far end. Even as he let go her ankle remained at a repulsively twisted angle.

"I want to see your pretty little face when I take you, right here on this floor! I want to watch your eyes look to the door in anticipation of the saviour that will not come! He landed on top of her much more forcefully than last time, and her gasps for breath were much louder this time. Already Amorette felt the room begin to swim and his words became softer, as if he knew she was nearing oblivion. "All I need is his name little Madam! That's all I need. A pretty little thing like you is bound to have a beau. Think of him now, out there searching for you and finding nothing, because you will die here. Cry his name with as much pain and desperation as you can, and all this will be over!"

Amorette knew why he wanted it, as proof that he had broken her down. He pushed his knee into her chest even further and the one of the bones in her corset snapped and pressed into her side with such force that she let out a guttural sigh and the name began to form on her lips as silent tears sprang to her eyes.

"What is it little Madam?" he spoke much more softly to her now, his breath brushing her ear. "Say it and it's all over."

"A…A…Athos," she sighed before everything went black.

 _ **So I think Garcia Casales is not a nice man at all, and Amorette may face some more trouble from him in the chapters to come. Will she get herself out of this mess though; and will Henry Fitzgerald grow a set and help Amorette or not? Who are his sons though, can anyone guess?**_

 _ **By the way if I do write another story for this site, and any of you lovelies read it, (which I hope you do) if I say it's going to be a short story or chapter I think it's best to take that with a pinch of salt. This chapter covered one bullet point in my plan (oops)! So there's still a fair way to go!**_


	70. Chapter 70

_**I've done it again. This chapter is yet again one bullet point. I need to sort myself out otherwise this story will go on forever! Anyway, we are about to meet that Valois heirs that Lyall Fitzgerald might have mentioned before he croaked it!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

 _"I am the only child of parents who weighed, measured, and priced everything; for whom what could not be weighed, measured, and priced, had no existence."_

 _Charles Dickens, Little Dorrit._

Cold dampness against her cheek was the first sensation she felt as she woke. The throbbing in her head was the second and the afternoon sunlight had Amorette forcing her eyes shut again as the pain increased tenfold. Vaguely she was also aware that her ankle felt as if it lay at an odd angle, but it was not nearly as painful as her head. The pressure of the dampness increased slightly and Amorette felt the slightest brush of skin against her jawline.

She reeled backwards as her eyes flew open, blinking sharply in the harsh sunlight. The first sight that met her as her eyes began to adjust to the sunlight was a damp and dirty cloth that was smeared with her own blood. She followed the tanned hand that held it and found the youngest of Garcia's sons gazing back at her. She was sitting upright again in the chair, but she was still tied to it. The Spanish boy was kneeling before her, a bowl of murky red water at his feet.

"You certainly don't help yourself Madam," he supplied thickly and without a smile as he raised the damp cloth towards her face.

Amorette jerked away again as far as the bonds and the back of the chair would allow her. "Don't touch me," she hissed icily. "I do not want your help."

"I apologise for my father's behaviour," he said as he sat back a little and dropped the cloth into the bowl again. Amorette glanced around the room and saw that they were completely alone. She thought she could hear the distant rumble of voices from the floor below and hoped they would leave and not return to the upper floor of the building. "He was out of order; but you have nothing to fear of my brother and I. You know very well that we need you alive and the official order was unharmed. My father ignored those orders and he should not have done so. He will be punished, you should know that."

"He seems to be the one handing out the punishments," Amorette grumbled heavily. "he's…your father so I doubt he'll face much retribution. From where I'm sitting it seems as if it's him giving the orders."

The Spanish boy threw her a grim smile. "You really don't know who we are, do you? My bother might not agree with me telling you, but I suppose you are as much in this mess as we are. My name is Manuel de Medici and my older brother is Estevan."

 _Spanish Medici's?_ Amorette let her mind configure the information it had just been fed and couldn't see how knowing the name of the man before her would make anything better or easier for her in that moment. Spanish Medici's were not a good sign at all. "You do not share your father's surname?" Amorette probed to give herself a little more time to think.

"Garcia is not our father really," said Manuel as he wet the damp cloth again and raised it to Amorette's face. This time she did not flinch away as she had done before. She wanted to know what the Spaniard had to say as he seemed to be so forward in striking up a conversation with her. "He brought us up and has been in essence everything that a father should be. We call him father because that is how we see him and had we been anyone else we might have taken his name eventually because I do so want to remain a part of his family forever. Alas, it suited better to keep our mother's name. You are a clever one Madam, so I'm sure figuring out who our mother is will not be too strenuous given our name."

Amorette's mind began to whir as she took in the tanned and handsome visage of Manuel before her. She was almost sure that she would have thought Garcia to be his father based on looks but that was before the revelation. Spanish Medici's in Paris at such a time could mean only one thing though and Amorette knew it. Her mind began to travel backwards in time to her French history lessons; back almost a hundred years to when the House of Valois ruled France. When the King's mother Marie de Medici had married the then King Henry IV; the first bourbon King, she had not been his first wife but his second. His first wife was Margaret of Valois, and she has the last surviving son or daughter of Henry II and Catherine de Medici. Surely it wasn't too presumptive to assume she had a lover at some point and bore two sons? Provided that the father of said sons was indeed just a lover and not her husband the King, then those sons would not be descendants of the Bourbons. They would be wholly Valois and Medici.

"You and your bother are the Valois heirs!" Amorette whispered as she narrowed her eyes at Manuel.

He was nodding at her, as if he had been expectantly waiting for her to figure it all out. "Correct Madam. As direct descendants of the Henry II, we have more claim to the throne of France than the Bourbon's ever had."

"Then why was a Bourbon put on the throne?" Amorette replied tartly. Her sudden change in attitude did not seem to surprise Manuel, but it took a lot of effort on her part. Dizziness clouded Amorette's mind both from the knock to the head and her empty stomach. Thinking so much was making her head throb much more painfully than before. She willed herself to carry on though, not sure how much longer she had to gather as much information as she could before unconsciousness took her again. "Why were the Bourbon cousins chosen instead of a Valois son?"

Manuel smiled grimly. "Madam we knew our mother for little over a week before we were spirited away to Spain where we grew up. I think we saw her once more; shortly before she died. She was ill and could not speak. I doubt she even knew we were there. I know nothing of the woman and I dare say she knew very little of us. That was the way she wanted it. No one ever knew about us, save Garcia and his family who brought us up."

Amorette fought down those oddest notions that occurred within her then; of familiarity and camaraderie with the two Medici boys. It had of course occurred to her that she too had been treated badly and almost shamefully by her own parent. It felt like a betrayal to not feel something for the boys who had gone through so much because their parents had not taken care of them as they should have but Amorette couldn't in that moment let herself give in to those sympathies. If she did, everything would be lost. They might have had a parent that did not love or care for them and had cast them off, but that did not mean their later adult actions were justified; trying to sack Paris and overthrow the King was one of those actions. "There were others that knew," Amorette supplied thickly as she felt her head begin to droop. "I heard the whisperings of this months ago from Scots if you believe it! Your little scheme was rumbled long ago!"

"And yet here we are," Estevan mused jovially as he moved into her line of sight. Amorette had not heard his footfall on the steps and nor it appeared, had Manuel. Now that she had more time to observe them closely, both men were so very much alike that Amorette thought she would find it hard to tell the difference if it were not for the slightest of variance in height between the two. "Those whisperings have not stopped us Madam. It appears you told no one, so you are complicit with our schemes!"

Amorette fought against her heavy eyelids as Manuel shuffled backwards, his relaxed demeanour suddenly shrinking as his brother took up his place kneeling before her. "I did tell people!" Amorette hissed. "Your threat was not thought to be one of consequence and it still isn't. Paris will not fall. I know the King is free of the Louvre and safe. The Queen is too. There is nothing for you in Paris. You have had a wasted journey but I'm pretty sure you won't be making a return one. There are others who heard those whisperings. They will ensure that you are caught and held accountable for your actions!"

"Madam you will learn to hold your tongue on such matters. Rest assured, we shall not treat you as my father did but there will be repercussions. You should remember, that if we had not such a great need of you, you would be dead already."

Growing more annoyed with her own sluggishness, Amorette shook her head a little to try and ward off the feeling. "Just why do you need me?"

"Oh I think you know all about that Madam." Estevan stood to his full height and turned away from her again. Over his shoulder he called, "I will fetch my father and you will tell us what you know."

Amorette was not sure how she managed to remain conscious through the second round of interrogation, but she did. Part of her wished that she hadn't bothered though. Garcia Casales stood with his back against the wall opposite her as he asked his questions, a vein throbbing in his neck due to anger every so often. There was not one question that Amorette answered honestly or truthfully, because she didn't see the point in it. Even questions with meaningless answers were rescinded with lies and taunts to confound the men who surrounded her. Amorette had hoped that Garcia might lose his temper with her again but it seemed he had been vehemently warned not to approach her person at all. He stayed fixed upon one spot and asked questions in a monosyllabic tone even though anger and revulsion radiated from him. After an hour or two, he appeared to relent and the men turned their attention towards the steps again.

Henry Fitzgerald was the last of them to pass her, stopping just to the side of her. She had pointedly ignored him as he stood to the side of her all through the interrogation and Amorette considered doing so again, but found that her anger would not let her. "What do you want?" she snapped at him venomously.

"You should tell them what you know Amorette. That's what I want. Tell them and they might let you live."

Amorette shook her head at him incredulously. "Henry they will k…kill me once I tell them what I know. I'm no fool. They cannot hope to contain the situation if they just let me skip off back into the Paris streets can they? No, they will kill me whether I speak or not, so I… I wi…the way I see it I may as well save a few lives with my death by remaining silent."

"Then I can't help you Madam."

With that he left her. Amorette turned her head to watch him retreat to the lower floor again with the others and heaved a great sigh. She did not know how much longer they would keep her trussed up in this room. The barrage of questions could go on for weeks or months with no respite. Amorette did not know how she had lasted several hours, let alone how she could withstand all that time. Her only hope would be that she died of starvation or managed to free herself somehow. If those men really did manage to sack Paris and put their candidate upon the French throne, things could get decidedly worse for her. She didn't think she could survive it any other way; certainly not if Garcia Casales was the one handing out punishments. She might break too soon and give away information that was integral to the safeguarding of France. She was beginning to worry about that. What if they did manage to break her mind and it was no longer her own? How much control would she still retain as to what information she spoke of. Amorette knew that she would never forgive herself if she was coerced into sharing such information even against her will because she would still be betraying her friends. the girl Marie might not see it as such, and Athos and his friends certainly wouldn't. They would understand; or at least she liked to think that they would. The Queen would not understand though. She was already of a precarious mind at the best of times. Amorette recalled all of her Queen's skittish moments and movements over the past few years and of how the young woman seemed to really trust no one. Queen had once given orders for Amorette to be killed for simply knowing too much and from then on Amorette had been able to notice the little discrepancies in her demeanour that showed her weaknesses as well as her strengths.

It really was the Queen's own fault though. Her relationship with Aramis was the foundation for the shaky trust and for the foolish notions of grandeur. Having an affair behind her husband's back had been the catalyst for her own dis-trust of herself. It was not as if either of them were solely to blame in any way, but Amorette could see just how the Queen might have repaired things long ago. Aramis was a good man and would not have forced his advances upon the Queen in any way. Amorette knew he could be charming and had heard the stories of the marksman's exploits from Athos so certainly she believed it very plausible to be drawn in by such a man unwittingly. Aramis would more than likely be the first to admit that he did not think of spending the rest of his life with every woman he bedded. Some would have been entertainment for one night only and might have considered themselves something rather more. Amorette knew many women who had fallen for such schemes; her mother being one of them. That did not mean though that he would have forced a woman's hand in such things. The woman would have to want it too, whether she showed it or not. Aramis must have possessed some sort of gift for seeking it out, that was all. If the woman refused him outright though, he'd have stepped back immediately.

Aramis had seen something wanting within the Queen, some quest for enjoyment and escapement that he was able to provide in that moment, however fleetingly it might have transpired to be. Neither of them could have known that they would come to feel for each other in the way that they had. That was all the more reason why the Queen should have stopped things sooner. She loved Aramis, so his life was more important than their dalliances. Surely they were better off alive and able to occasionally risk the odd glance across the room; the odd muffled conversation as they rode alongside one another on a hunt? Surely that was better than the alternative; which was death for them both.

In that respect, Amorette did place more blame on the Queen than Aramis, which was a strange notion for her. She was always want to blame the man more. Men had more power and influence, yes; but there was something more about how they could weave such a web of dreams and security and safety for a woman that would cause her to fall and not be able to pick herself up. Where Aramis and the Queen where concerned though, Amorette thought it was infinitely more plausible that Aramis was more in love with the Queen than she with him. He was infatuated and therefore unable to see what surrounded them. Thus the Queen had the influence and power. Amorette had been there herself once when she was younger, so obsessed with someone that she could not see a life beyond them even when they made it clear that she was not what they wanted. It was remarkable that she had found a way to rid herself of the childish notions and had found the real love for that same man that had been hiding beneath the surface all the while, as if waiting for her to grow into a woman who could handle such feelings. There was no doubt in Amorette's mind that the Queen knew how much Aramis loved her. It had been her who held the strings all along and if she'd only loosened her grip a little, they might have all been that bit safer. Aramis was not in the right frame of mind to regulate their relationship accordingly to ensure his own security because he was in too deep. The Queen had let him fall that deep.

Amorette resolved to tell the Queen and Aramis all of her thoughts if she ever did manage to escape and see them again, knowing all the while as she made that plan in her mind that she could never do so. Aramis would probably be incredibly hurt by such a thing. Even though he had at times been brutally honest with her in regard of her own matters, Amorette knew Aramis couldn't take the same treatment of his own romantic feelings. He was too much of a sensitive soul and that was the reason Amorette could never have found herself attracted to him.

She herself had been a sensitive soul once, and perhaps she still was beneath the new hardened exterior. She and a man like Aramis would have clashed horribly. She had searched for a sensitive soul through time and time again to heal her broken heart. Fabien had appeared to be the right one to mend it or render it cold and unfeeling. Amorette had thought that the poetry and the sparkling wit might have drowned out her real true feelings, but she was wrong. Fabien was not as sensitive as he made out. He had been a rock to her in some ways. He was far more resilient than he first seemed and that was why Amorette had developed some kind of love or feelings for him. Within him there was that core strength that she herself felt lacking in her life since Athos had married her sister.

Yes, Athos was the strongest man that she knew in so many ways. He was not the sensitive kind of soul at all, and that was why she had loved him from the start. His gruff attitude and melancholy moods had drawn her in before she even knew him very well at all. He was no dandy with starched collars and nor was he a scholar with the pale pallor of those who spent all their time locked in a dark library. He was no hardened farm-labourer or sleazy politician either. He was captivating in that Amorette had never known exactly what he was until she met him again after all those years apart. He was a musketeer, and one of the strongest. No matter how her mind wandered and slipped, she would always need and want him. There would always be a part of her that thought herself unworthy of him because she really did hold him in such high esteem. She didn't see what was wrong in reminding herself just how wonderful he was, and of how happy he made her. She could work on her own slightly depleting view of herself for the rest of her life and still find fault next to him. Either he could deal with that or he couldn't; it was entirely his choice.

That was how she almost feel asleep, feeling comfort for the first time in days as she imagined him with and around her. It was not a hard chair she sat on but his lap, and it was not ropes that bound her hands painfully but his gentle touch as they played a silly game. It was just a game; like many others that they had played before. In a moment he would release her hands and she would fling them around his neck. How they would giggle.

The imaginary laughter faded almost as it began. It was permeated by sudden voices from the lower floor. Amorette had not realised that someone had entered the room again or that she had closed her eyes and let her chin drop. "She's asleep," said Manuel.

"Let her sleep then," ordered Garcia. "Perhaps she is too tired to think clearly, and she's had a knock to the head. When she wakes she will likely see things in a clearer light. You will return to question her again and you will get the answers we seek. If she will not speak then do not waste any more time on her. Kill her and have done with it."

"I'll do it," came the sudden reply in a Scots accent and Amorette had to muffle her gasp in the shoulder of her cloak. Had Henry just expressed his desire to kill her?

"No, you will not Señor Fitzgerald." Amorette heard the animosity in Garcia's tone. "You have had prior knowledge of this woman. You will not be permitted to be near her again. She will die and take her secrets to the grave or she will give them up to us and die for it. I cannot trust you to remain impartial during such an act."

"That woman is nothing to me!" Henry spat. "She's just some French whore with her fingers in too many pies. Granted I was a friend to her once, but she has betrayed me time and time again over the last many years. I hold no loyalty to her!"

Amorette felt bile rise to her mouth as Henry spoke so coldly of her. She had never heard him use such a tone, not even recently when he had spoken of the Duke of Buckingham with such disdain. If she had been hoping he'd have retained some semblance of the young man he had once been, she was sorely mistaken.

She wanted to cry again, and still the tears would not come. Not even in this dank and echoing room with her own fate staring her in the face could she bring tears to her eyes. Perhaps it was the tiredness, the hunger and the dehydration rolled into one.

"Loyalty and love are two different things though Señor," supplied Estevan. "To love her, you must have loyalty; if love is already in place then you need not have loyalty. You said that you and she have known each other practically all your lives. I think loyalty is irrelevant in that circumstance."

More footsteps, and then a Spanish man that she had not been introduced to entered the room. He paid little attention to Amorette and stood against the wall behind her, pistol held in a lazy grip. She understood then that he was to be her guard for the time being, and that there would likely be one on the steps too. Not long after, she heard the sound of movement from the lower floors and then the door slammed shut. Silence ensued.

Again, it was a form of touch that disturbed Amorette's slumber. She groaned and tried to turn away from the arm that encircled her waist and tried to lift her. When the touch persisted, she began to thrash out with her hands to bat it away, wanting nothing more than for sleep to claim her again.

"Amorette you need to stand," came a voice into her ear as she tried yet again to push the touch away.

It took her a few seconds in her sleepy state to register that her hands were no longer bound, but when she did she finally opened her eyes a little as the touch pulled her more forcefully. "Amorette if you will not stand I cannot help you! I have an injured shoulder and cannot carry you so you need to move!"

Amorette finally resolved to let the arm that had wrapped itself around her pull her out of the chair a little but she let out a yelp of pain as she unwittingly put weight on her injured and twisted ankle. The touch did not let her sink back into the chair as she wanted so desperately to do but instead pulled her to lean against a broad chest as she began to hiss at the pain in her ankle.

"Come on lass, stand for me?" Henry Fitzgerald's gentle whispers were not what Amorette expected or wanted in that moment and when she finally opened her eyes wide enough to observe the situation, her heart deflated a little inside. It really was the copper-haired Scot who held her tightly with one arm so that she didn't topple over and as she turned her head towards his shoulder she saw that he was indeed injured.

"What are you doing?" she whispered to him as he began to back away from the chair. Amorette's injured ankle brought the first tears to her eyes that afternoon rather unwillingly as she forced some weight onto it. She found though that with the weight the pain began to ease with the seconds that passed.

"Saving your life lass," Henry replied, "So there's no need to sound so affronted!"

Amorette let the Scotsman guide her across the room towards the steps until she saw the body of the man who had been guarding her upon the floor. "Henry… wh…what are you doing?" Amorette repeated in a stammer. What had all that hate for her been for earlier if he had intended to help her all along?

He sighed heavily as they reached the top of the steps. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't question my intentions lass and just let me help you," he said as if he could read her thoughts. "You don't know how much it has cost me to get back here to you with so many eyes upon me!"

They took the steps slowly and one at a time, both parties hissing or yelping in pain occasionally as their respective injuries were jostled by movement. They were both concentrating too much to talk, and Amorette also feared being overheard and caught if she spoke. As they finally turned the bend in the steps and came upon the lower floor Amorette felt a sudden irrational fear grip her and she pushed herself backwards into Henry's chest.

"There's no one here for now lass, but if you don't move soon they will return and find us here!"

Henry pushed her onwards and afterwards it felt as if they had reached the street in no time at all. For the first time Amorette took notice of the sky above her; a dull grey kind of colour that signified that dawn was a still a few hours away. She had slept all night. Neither of them dared speak until they had managed to walk a fair distance and Henry finally pulled them down an alleyway and stopped. He released Amorette and she fell back against the wall, sure that her knees would give way at any second.

"Why did you do that?" Amorette asked stiffly as she placed a hand over the cut on her head that was now encrusted with dried blood.

"Why did I save the life of one of my oldest friends?" Henry asked sarcastically. "Yes, I can see how you'd struggle with that point."

"Henry you've been on the wrong side of things for quite some time now! Don't mock me for simply believing what you have presented to the world! You're not the Henry I knew once! That boy would have saved my life over and over again as you have just done but he is not here anymore! You cannot be both! You must pick a side!"

"Like you have, you mean?" he replied icily. "You picked a side years ago and even after you knew which horse I had backed in the race you still entertained the notions that I was your friend!"

"I cared about you once!" Amorette cried. "I still do care about that boy I knew!"

Henry sighed heavily and reached out for her and drew her into his arms in a gentle embrace as he seemed to give up the argument. "I care about you too lass, which is why I wasn't leaving you at the mercy of those men. They are ruthless and cunning and have infinitely more power than I think you would ever consider. You have too good a heart to be mixed up in all of this Amorette. You need to leave. Get out of Paris and go somewhere safe. I'd tell you to go as far as England if I thought you'd consider it for you'd be safer there!" Henry was no longer looking at her as Amorette pulled away from him. He was unbuckling the pistol brace at his waist. "Here," Quickly he moved, wrapping the belt around Amorette's own waist and he fastened it in the tightest notch. It was still far too big and fell to rest rather oddly around Amorette's hips, held up only by the skirts of the dress.

I…I…ca….can't leave!" Amorette stammered suddenly as she pushed against his chest with one hand. "I can't just…leave everyone I care about behind!"

Henry took hold of her shoulders firmly and shook her roughly. "Don't you get it lass? This is it, it's over. Paris is at an end! All of those people that you care about will soon be dead if they aren't already!"

"NO!"

"Yes Amorette! There's nothing left for you here! Go somewhere safe and forget Paris. You've believed in me more than my own mother has and for that reason I'm saving your life now. I won't do so again. If those men find you, they will kill you! They will also kill me for aiding you! Do you want that on your conscience? If I see you again in Paris Amorette I'll kill you myself!"

With that he stormed away, cloak billowing behind him in the gentle breeze as he nursed his injured shoulder with his other arm. He'd been injured trying to save her. That was surely so much more the Henry Fitzgerald that she knew and loved, but there was also the snarling viper that threatened to kill her if he set eyes on her again that threatened to take that man over completely. Amorette realised she had not even thanked him for what he had done for her, but somehow, she knew that was the least of his worries. When they returned to find her gone would they not know that it was Henry who had saved her life? Would they not kill him anyway?

 _ **So I'm very pleased to inform you that there will be a reunion in the next chapter**_ __ _ **But then of course the proverbial really does hit the fan.**_


	71. Chapter 71

_**So, I've decided to slot in the flashback where Amorette and Athos first met in this chapter. I thought it would take up a few paragraphs or even half of a chapter, but you know me! I got carried away. I thought I'd be much further on with this one but oh well; means more for you guys to read! I found it really hard to create the scene where they met in my head because to me it feels like they always knew each other. I found it difficult to write as well but once I got started it kind of made sense and knew it needed to be placed because of where we find Amorette at the end of this chapter which was always planned!**_

 _ **I don't know if I like my interpretation of a five-year-old Amorette and don't know if I got it right. In my mind, she would have been one of those quite annoying little children who is older than her years and thinks she knows everything because she reads books.**_

 _ **P.S. we have our reunion**_ __

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

 _Amorette was sick and tired of being left behind; on hikes, hunts and any sort of excursion that was amenable to the higher classes. Granted, her cousin Charles was a whole twelve years older than her but he could be just as immature as she was. When it rained, Charles couldn't be more attentive to his younger cousins but as soon as the sun appeared from behind a cloud he would be off scouring the neighbourhood for his likeminded young friends to ride off into the countryside upon some errand of mischief or other._

 _Today would be different though. Charles was going on a hunt. It was not the kind of hunt that their fathers would have embarked upon, but Charles wouldn't hear it called anything else. In reality, he and some of the young nobles who lived nearby were going to ride out together into the forest and see what they could come across. Charles would not have behaved so if his father were here, but as all parents were absent and he had been dealt the blow of responsibility for the day; he could do what he liked. It was also how Amorette got her way; that and a lot of stamping her little feet. Amorette, even at her young age hated the idea of a hunt in that it was the pursuing of some poor animal for sport but there was something about the energy of those young people that she so enjoyed being around. She was glad that her mother had gone with her father to Paris and left her in Charles' care for now she knew she would get to do exactly what she wanted._

 _Charles could never really bring himself to discipline her because he knew how much of a horrid time she had with her father, but Amorette had known from the moment she had appeared in the hall that morning, dressed in her finest riding cloak and boots that Charles wasn't happy. He hadn't wanted to take her along in case something were to happen to her._

" _What would your father do to me eh?" Charles said a little to sternly as Amorette approached his chair and began to plead with him. "The man would string me up Amorette!"_

 _Amorette carefully placed herself at his side, her eyes filling with crocodile tears and her bottom lip beginning to tremble. "You let Blanche Perrault go on your last hunt Charles! I know you think she's pretty but-"_

" _But she's fifteen Amorette!" Charles cried exasperatedly as he gave up trying to cut through the bread before him and threw down his knife. "She's a whole ten years older than you! You may not think so right now but that ten years makes a whole lot of difference! Besides, Blanche isn't a curious little thing like you! She stayed upon the forest path and waited patiently if we veered off it and she wasn't plucky enough to throw a tantrum because we were going to kill the stag! You'd be unable to sit idly on the road and quite frankly I don't think it would be safe for you to do so. Blanche is old enough to know when danger approaches and call for help! Are you old enough to do so?"_

" _You know I am!" Amorette replied hotly._

" _The others will be here soon Amorette, so please don't bother them with these incessant pleas for attention will you? It isn't fair! You know I cannot wait for the day you're old enough come with me, but wait we must." Charles stood, tossed his napkin onto his half-eaten breakfast and left the hall. Amorette gave it two minutes, and then she followed him._

 _An hour later, Amorette was stood in the sunny stable yard with a smug grin upon her face. She had badgered Charles incessantly until he had relented and reluctantly agreed to let her go with him on his hunt. He had made her agree to stay with Blanche Perrault on the road if the boys disappeared off it and Amorette had readily agreed, too eager to enjoy her day out to argue over such a complication. Blanche was not so bad really, but she was happy enough to sit on the side-lines whilst Charles and his friends behaved like barbarians. Amorette smiled demurely at the two Perrault boys as they approached the house and dismounted._

" _Where's your sister?" Charles called from behind her._

" _Didn't father tell you?" Dariel Perrault asked rather sheepishly._

 _Charles appeared at Amorette's side, looking slightly crestfallen. "Tell me what?"_

" _Blanche's engagement is all but agreed upon. I'm sorry Charles! I know you had quite the soft spot for my little sister but it seems my father has found a better prospect. She's been spending rather a lot of time with old Beauchamp since."_

 _Charles shrugged this off, but Amorette could tell deep down that he was annoyed and perhaps even a little hurt. He turned to her suddenly as if realising that she would now be his sole responsibility. "Now little one-"_

 _Amorette's feet began to stamp again. "Don't you dare Charles! You promised!"_

" _I know, I know…" Charles shook his head wearily as he tried to think of a solution._

 _Dariel Perrault scratched his bearded chin in thought. "The Mademoiselle can still accompany us, if that's what's caused this upset. The others are meeting us by the ford and that Athos boy will be with them. He's only a few years older than the Mademoiselle. He can keep her company."_

 _Charles had readily agreed to this and Amorette's good mood began to vanish almost as soon as it had transpired. Having no say in who was to accompany her, she began to grumble that perhaps staying behind wouldn't be so bad. She didn't want to be stuck on the road with some toad of a boy her own age who likely picked his own nose and ate it afterwards. That was why she liked Charles and his friends. She even put up with Dariel Perrault who was almost as disgusting to her as her father was, because these boys were a different breed altogether. They were gentlemen (at least on the outside) and Charles at seventeen was swiftly growing into a rather dashing and charming young man._

 _People of Amorette's own age bored her immensely, especially boys. Who on earth wanted to be in the company of children who wanted nothing better than to throw mud at each other and call each other silly names. Charles still did all of that sometimes, but only if he wasn't getting his way. It was the intelligent conversation, the stories of their new adult lives and the maturity that Amorette so longed for. These boys had become men over the last few years and all now carried their own weapons. Some friends of the Perrault brothers had recently been in quite the frightening skirmish, and the two brothers hastened to tell their tale to Charles as they mounted their horses and trotted out into the lane that the stable yard backed onto._

 _They rode downhill for a while and talked amiably of the fair weather for a while before they caught sight of the ford up ahead. More young men from the nearby town had been persuaded to join and Amorette saw Charles' swell of pride as his rather immature 'hunt' with his few friends began to grow in number. Even Guy Saint-Martin, the Duc de Berry had come up in his fine doublet and hose. Charles had met the Duc some months earlier in Paris and they had played cards together. Amorette had been a shy and quiet child around men she did not know that well, but when she had met the Duc, she had felt strangely at ease. Other men of Charles' acquaintance who were graced with large fortunes and cunning wit sometimes made Amorette feel uncomfortable but the Duc was very pleasant indeed. He had a young daughter Amorette's own age she knew, and thus he had known exactly how to approach a conversation with her._

 _Amorette had often wondered what it would have been like to grow up with such an easy-going and gentle father. The Duc's daughter was likely spoilt though and Amorette did not ever want to be that. Charles as spoilt, and even though on the whole he managed to remain on the right side of it, there were times when he could be incredibly petty and obtuse. The word obtuse stuck in Amorette's mind as she caught sight of the boy on the Duc's immediate right. He was certainly more than a few years her senior. She would have put him at perhaps fifteen due to his height, but he could have been a little younger and just tall for his age, she supposed._

 _She should have been pleased that he was a little older than her, but his whole demeanour had Amorette wishing more than ever that she had stayed at the house. His stern and stubborn face was stretched in a disappointed frown that pulled his whole face down with him. It was all that she could see beneath the brim of his hat which was pulled so low it obscured his hair and eyes from Amorette's vantage point. His shoulders were slumped forward and because of that Amorette would have considered him to be a local boy from the nearby village if it had not been for his well-made clothing. A local lad from the village would actually have been quite fun. He would have good stories to tell that Amorette would have delighted in and probably would have been too young to hear. No, a sullen noble boy who looked as if the world owed him a favour was not who Amorette wanted as her companion. She tugged on Charles sleeve._

" _Is that the boy I have to stay with?"_

 _Charles let out a dry chuckle. "Only if we venture off the path little one. You can ride by me though. Actually, you'd better do that. I should be keeping an eye on you even though I know you're already an accomplished rider. We won't be going that fast anyway."_

 _Amorette let out a little huffed sigh. "I hate boys…"_

 _The forest path led them uphill again into a densely populated woodland filled with game for the young nobles to hunt. Amorette had stayed at Charles' side for most of the afternoon even though she barely spoke to anyone. She had known of course that Charles' attention would be directed elsewhere on such a day but it was becoming quite tedious. She didn't even have Blanche Perrault's false praise of her riding cloak or skirts to keep her occupied. At length the Duc fell back to accompany Amorette as Charles jumped from his horse and dived into the undergrowth after an injured hare._

" _This is barbaric," Amorette mused._

" _So is bringing a five year old girl on a hunt Mademoiselle," the Duc added dryly. "But I know you will have persuaded your cousin endlessly with your charms until he relented."_

" _I think he was always going to let me come along," announced Amorette smugly as the boy she knew to be called Athos fell back to trot alongside them. "He just likes the fight does Charles. He likes the risk too, of my father finding out."_

" _As long as he doesn't," said the Duc. "If he does, your cousin will have a hefty price to pay."_

" _Is that my fault?" Amorette asked suddenly as she turned to the young man who rode beside her. She had not thought of how the others might perceive her joining the hunt. "He knows I won't hold anyone up and-"_

" _I meant nothing by it little Mademoiselle," interrupted the Duc. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise my words sounded harsh. I forget you are a perceptive girl. No, I know your father is prone to his fits of temper. I think it gallant and only right that Charles brings you along. What else would you have done today, sat indoors with a governess?"_

 _Amorette nodded and opened her mouth to speak but Charles was dragging himself out of the undergrowth, calling for the men to dismount._

" _There's a stag and his doe up ahead. We should go on foot though so as not to startle them!"_

 _Amorette groaned as she understood just what that meant. She glanced across the Duc towards the young boy who was to be her companion and saw him grimace visibly as he was told to stay put._

" _I can come?" Amorette asked Charles as he lifted her down from her horse._

" _You can, as long as you promise you won't be a nuisance! Doesn't seem fair really to bring you all this way and leave you." Charles glanced towards Athos. "He looks like a barrel of laughs, doesn't he? I won't subject you to the boredom if I can help it."_

 _Amorette felt suddenly so very touched that her cousin would think of her in such a moment, but another thought was jarring her mind. "What about my dress?"_

" _Ah your fine dress?" called Charles sarcastically. "If I'd known you'd fall at that first hurdle I'd not have brought you. Stay here then!"_

 _Amorette watched as Charles pulled his musket from its holder in his saddle and began to move away. The Athos boy was staring at her curiously, as if waiting to see what her retort would be so Amorette rolled her shoulders back and stuck out her chin. He might want to appear bored and sullen but Amorette abided by the good teachings she had already received. "Charles I didn't mean it that way," she whispered as she sidled up to him. Men all around them were dismounting and grabbing their weapons. "You know my mother and father are due back any day now. My father paid for this dress. You know what would happen if I tarnish it!"_

" _Yes I do," Charles mumbled as he turned back to her. "If I could carry both you and the musket so that you could see the goings on I would, but that's too dangerous even for me. Stay with the boy Amorette. I'm sure he's not as bad as he first appears."_

 _They spent nearly an hour in complete and utter silence. Amorette was watching the foliage around them eagerly for signs that the men were returning, but the sullen boy was watching the forest path beneath his feet. With their horses grazing lazily nearby, Amorette had taken to sitting on a tree stump for a while but now she paced restlessly as the occasional sound of musket-fire reached them. Amorette couldn't help wondering if they had found a whole herd of deer to keep them occupied for so long. She bristled at the sound of each shot that reverberated through the trees to where she stood, not knowing that be boy was watching her intently out of the corner of his eye._

 _A resounding crack echoed above them suddenly and a pigeon fell from the sky. "Your cousin certainly has good aim," Athos said in a monosyllabic tone._

" _That's because he actually takes part," Amorette replied hotly. "He doesn't sit on the road moaning and grimacing like a spoilt child!"_

" _Me? Spoilt?" Athos turned to face her then as she continued to stare ahead into the trees. "What about you, refusing to move just because of your pretty dress! If it hadn't been for you I would be taking part!"_

 _Amorette let out a huff of frustration. "Go on then! Go and join them then in their barbaric sport! I'll do quite well on my own!"_

" _You're a brat!" he replied gruffly. "I can't leave a little girl alone in these woods and you know that!"_

" _I'm no brat!" Amorette cried as she finally turned to face him. He had pulled his hat off since she had last graced him with her full attention and she faltered a little as she stared into cobalt blue eyes with a colour more intense than the blue summer sky up above. His brown hair had been swept off his face and fell in the gentlest of waves to the back of his neck. "and….I… You're not much older than me, so less of the little!"_

 _Amorette didn't realise she had been stamping her feet again. He glanced down at them with only a raised eyebrow and then glanced away. "What age are you then?" he asked to the trees before him._

" _What age are you?" Amorette retorted._

" _I'm thirteen and since you did not offer me the good grace of answering my question 'little' Mademoiselle I'll have to guess at your age." He moved in front of her then to gaze down at her and the corners of his mouth tugged slightly but he did not smirk. "let's see, definitely four."_

" _I'm not four, I'm five!" Amorette cried indignantly._

" _You're short for your age then," he announced gruffly._

" _And you're abnormally tall for yours!"_

" _No I'm not. I just seem it because you are so small. Everything must seem tall to you; why even those blades of grass must appear gigantic to your little mind!"_

" _And I'm the brat?" Amorette asked suddenly._

" _Who wears a dress like that on a hunt?" remarked the boy. "So yes you are the brat! I bet you made a rather large case for coming along only to moan about ruining your dress! Girls should stay at home!"_

 _Amorette felt her little hands balling into fists as her anger spiked. "Oh your mother should slap you when you return home!" she snarled._

 _There came no reply. She glanced up at the boy to find for the first time, an undeniable smirk in place. His eyes sparkled in mirth as he finally let an unwilling chuckle escape. "You're an easy target as well as a brat then," he teased but Amorette, realising what his intention had been crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from him._

" _I'm no brat!"_

" _No," he finally conceded. "You're not. You're a shrewd little thing; which begs the question, why did you want to come on a hunt Mademoiselle?"_

 _Amorette turned back to him to find him watching her intently, the grimace from earlier no longer in place and the smirk from seconds ago gone as well. His expression was not readable, and Amorette thought that was deliberate on his part._

" _I…I didn't want to miss out. Staying home with a governess is boring. I've not long left before I leave with my mother and father. I won't see Charles for quite a while after that. I didn't come out like some bloodthirsty fool to see a poor stag killed!"_

" _It's the way of the world though Mademoiselle," said Athos as he took her place on the tree stump. "If we did not hunt, we would not eat. I see how the sport of it may seem rather harsh and cruel but it is a quick death for the animal. I'm sure as you grow older you'll come to understand all of that."_

" _I already do understand it," she replied tartly. "That doesn't mean I have to like it. That poor animal, being chased by a crowd of ruffians through the forest that is supposed to be its home!"_

" _It doesn't actually happen the way it does in books Mademoiselle," said Athos._

" _Nothing ever does!" Amorette announced solemnly._

" _Not that you would know much about that yet," Athos teased again. "What with you being so little. I doubt you've even reached for a bookshelf before."_

" _I have too! I'll have you know I've read all of the books in my father's library; or at least all of the ones deemed readable for children!"_

" _What about your uncle's library?" Athos queried. "There are a good few books there too I'll bet; for one as inquisitive as you?"_

 _Amorette shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I don't go to my uncle's library. Children are not allowed in that part of the house."_

" _Your uncle's rule?"_

 _Amorette shook her head, feeling strangely curious about the answer she was about to give. She'd never given much thought to it before but now she was beginning to wonder. "No. It's Charles' rule actually. Any of his friends may go there, but if any girls do he shews them back to the other side of the house."_

 _She saw the same confusion she felt at that moment cross the boy's face, and that gruffness he had developed so well before began to set in again. Amorette turned away again, sure that the sullen mood was back again. She wasn't willing to spend any more time in his company if he was going to behave like that. She gazed in the direction in which the men had disappeared through the trees and watched as the horses meandered around the short expanse of road where they had stopped. The guns still fired occasionally but they were becoming more distant and far away. Sitting on a hill, Amorette thought that she should have been able to see what was going on down in the slight valley below. The sound of musket-fire began to come closer again and she wondered if she crept over to the edge to the road to look down; whether Athos would say anything._

" _You know," he announced out of the blue, "You don't actually have to be with the hunt to see what's happening. There is another way."_

" _There is?" Amorette asked as she whirled around to stare at him. "Without ruining the dress?"_

" _There is," he confirmed as he raised a hand and pointed towards the sky. "We go up. Have you ever climbed a tree Mademoiselle?"_

 _Athos did not seem surprised when she shook her head meekly. "Come then, lets climb one and see what we can find. We'll only go as high as you want to."_

" _Who wears a pretty dress like that to a hunt anyway?" asked Athos sometime later as they sat on parallel branches of the tallest tree on their small stretch of road. He was not teasing as he had been before but simply curious._

" _It's my riding attire," Amorette said quietly then, not liking his criticism after they had begun to get along. "My father bought it for me."_

" _It's special to you then?"_

 _Amorette laughed. "No monsieur. My father bought it so he would be angry if I tarnished it!"_

 _They moved again, climbing some more until they began to hear the voices of the other men returning. "We should climb back down," Athos said. "I doubt your cousin would be very happy to see you swinging from tree branches. I think I'd get into trouble."_

" _And it couldn't possibly have been my idea?" Amorette asked as she raised a brow. "I'll tell Charles it was."_

" _I would not doubt you could think up such clever plans Mademoiselle but he will no doubt still hold me responsible." He smiled then, and the way the sunlight fell upon his face had Amorette unashamedly staring at him. Up in the tree with a smile upon his face he did not actually seem so young despite his carefree attitude. There was something really quite handsome about his face when he smiled. His easy-going nature reeled her in just as much as his earlier gruff attitude had repulsed her somewhat. He was an enigma; Amorette realised. No doubt when they reached the ground again he would return to that grumpy and petulant boy. Amorette decided she wasn't going to let him make a fool of her like that. She was going to win that race outright._

 _Amorette forced herself to keep her expression impassive and refused to smile at him. "You're not though. You're just a boring boy. I didn't get to see anything from up here anyway!"_

 _She slid down onto the next branch and kept going until she was able to jump from the lowest one onto the packed earth of the forest path below. Just as her feet landed, Amorette heard the unmistakable sound of tearing fabric and groaned inwardly. Looking down, she could see a tear in the hem of her skirts._

 _Amorette did not go on the hunt again in the coming days. Instead the boy who disliked her, and who she disliked equally just as much would come up to the house. They would argue and bicker as if they were sister and brother and then climb some trees within the vast grounds of her cousin's chateau. They would fall out quite often, usually after one had teased the other so relentlessly that they were upon the borderline of causing real offence but Amorette found that she quite enjoyed having a sparring partner who did not give in so easily. It was liberating to be so uncensored with her words around the boy who was steadily growing in her esteem despite the fact that he was often prone to those sullen moods. Amorette was coming to realise though that he was not really grumpy. That was just the tone his voice took on sometimes, and that he naturally had quite a hard face when not openly talking. There was something rather more beguiling about that side of him than the honest smile or the mischievous grin. He was so very hard to read when he was quiet and reserved._

 _Amorette enjoyed their bickering so immensely that she went back for more, day after day; until her mother and father returned. They were over a week later than expected and Amorette was glad for it. She had spent every day since the hunt with Athos, but after her father had seen her torn riding dress, her happy mood at making such an odd new friend dissipated. She glimpsed him from the window the next morning, waiting by the one tree upon the lawn that they had yet to climb. He waved and she nodded, aware that half her face was in shadow where she sat and that when he saw all of her face in daylight, he was like to either ask many questions or run away._

 _When she reached him on the lawn she could tell from his demeanour that he knew she was not of a mind for their usual routine of friendly banter, teasing and bickering. He jumped down from the branch he was sitting in and she winced more from an internal pain than anything else when his eyes travelled over the mark on her cheek from where her father had slapped her the night before. It was swiftly forming into a purple bruise. The house was a cage of pent up anger that morning, for Charles had flown into his own rage when he had seen the mark at breakfast. There was nothing much for him to do though. He was not as big or as threatening as her father was. Amorette would leave with her parents the next day and no more would be said about it._

 _Still Athos did not say anything. "Like I said," Amorette whispered with a shrug. "My father was angry that my dress was tarnished."_

 _She saw the war of anger and pain break out across the boy's face and she almost thought she saw tears well in the corners of his eyes before she shrugged again and glanced away towards the expanse of the lawn that rolled out before them. She felt his hand take hers in a comforting gesture and he whispered, "What can I do?"_

 _That was the moment she knew that she loved her new friend that she disliked so much. He was tall for his age, but he was thin and gangling and no match for her father at all. There was nothing he could do to help her at all. There never would be a way to help her while her mother did not condemn the actions of Lord Percy Barclay. Amorette would not leave her mother whilst she remained with him and so she would have to take what comfort she could from those who offered it readily._

" _You can help me climb this tree, that's what you can do."_

…And that was how Amorette came to learn to climb trees. How ironic that the man who had taught her to do so all those years ago was about to come upon her nestled in the branches of one.

Amorette had dragged her twisted ankle through the back streets of Paris, ensuring that she stayed away from all of the main thoroughfares lest she be glimpsed by unwanted eyes. She knew she could not leave as Henry had all but ordered her to. There was only one option for her and that was to find her friends and those she cared about. She knew that the only place worth heading towards was the Louvre Palace. She skirted the outskirts of the Palace, watching from side streets to try and think of a way in. The sun would rise soon and she would be more easily seen then. She had moved into the trees then, recalling that once she herself had escaped the Jardin des Tuileries through a gap in an iron fence. She had told people about it though, so surely someone had repaired it.

They hadn't. Amorette almost fell to the ground and cried with relief when she saw the gap in the fence but she knew if she sat down she wouldn't get up again. Her head was throbbing more than ever and she moved so slowly that she was surprised she had not been seen. She stopped just shy of the edge of the tree-line before the vast lawns and was just able to glimpse the stonework of the palace from where she was. She needed to think of a way inside the Palace but her mind that had gotten her that far had decided it did not want to work. She swayed where she stood, clutching the bark of a tree for support. She forced herself to stop thinking of all else but the rough bark beneath her fingers and the smell of the woodland around her. She needed to sleep, so she began to climb.

Only when she was a few branches up did she stop. Removing the large belt that Henry Fitzgerald had slung around her waist, Amorette slid the belt around the branch she was sitting on, leaning her back against the trunk of the tree. She buckled the belt tightly around her thighs and the branch, keeping her firmly in place should she move slightly in her sleep.

She was still in the same position some hours later, when the sounds of voices and movement reached her. For a split second she panicked, fearing she would be found nestled within the tree by the Spanish and would swiftly meet her end.

Then a soft chuckle reached her ears. It was a hollow one, devoid of any real mirth but it was not a cold and emotionless one. _Porthos?_

Amorette slipped the belt off and swung her legs down onto one side of the branch, waiting with bated breath. Her heart was pounding in her ears and drowning out the sound of the men below, but Amorette was almost certain she was right. Finally, the men wandered into view. All of the air rushed out of her lungs in a guttural sigh that the men appeared not to hear.

"We need to think upon what they say inside though," came the one voice Amorette had longed to hear for days; the one voice she had always longed to hear when she needed comfort of any kind. "And discover whether they still hold the Queen in the Palace somewhere or if she got out."

"yes," Amorette called down to them. "It's a marvel what a woman can do when she puts her mind to it, isn't it?"

All three of them turned, shock clearly written upon their faces. "A..Amorette?" Athos stammered as he gazed up at her.

Amorette let the belt drop to the leaf covered ground and gripped the branch to lower herself down towards him. "Can someone help me down? I don't want to jump; I've hurt my ankle."

Athos moved forward instantly, climbing to the first branch to hold out his arms to help her down to the ground. Once Athos had guided her down a little he moved back, letting Amorette reach the ground herself. He didn't get a chance to speak again, for once Amorette's own feet touched the ground she turned and threw herself at him, burying her face in his chest with an exhausted yet grateful wail.

 _ **Amorette was a bit of a brat as a kid. I agree with Athos! They were always going to bicker during the first meeting because it's what they do best!**_


	72. Chapter 72

_**I just did not want to write this chapter! I procrastinated so much with boxsets and books for no reason what so ever. I'm sorry for the delay, but I have no excuses.**_

 _ **I'm also sorry for what happens in this chapter. Prepare for character deaths.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

She didn't think she had ever been held tighter in her life. Athos' arms encircled her so strongly that Amorette struggled to breathe but she didn't want him to let go. At long length, he did try to pull away a little and Amorette clung to him harder, desperate for there not to be any distance between them at all. Athos continued to push though and she was left with no choice but to relent. A few inches between them again, Athos was able to reach for her chin and pull her face from side to side as he ran his thumb gently along her jawline. She could see the carefully controlled expression that left her entirely clueless as to what he was thinking, but as his eyes moved further down her body and caught sight of her skirts, he appeared shocked.

Grabbing a fistful of them, he growled, "Where is the Queen?"

"She's safe!" Amorette cried. "At least she was yesterday morning. She's with Aramis. I left them just outside Versailles so I think I can be pretty sure that they made it there safely."

"And why are you not at Versailles with them? Why are you back here; wearing the Queen's skirts?"

Amorette ran a hand over her tired eyes, weariness overcoming her now that she finally felt safe again for the first time in over a day. "I had the Queen swap dresses with me in case we needed a distraction. I thought if we had our hoods up, they would only have the colours of our skirts to rely upon. It appears my fears were well founded because we were followed at one point. That's why I parted with them; to lead whoever that was away from the Queen. It worked rather well on the whole of it."

"Worked rather well?" he roared incredulously. "Amorette look at the state of you! Who did this to you?"

Amorette released a heavy sigh and looked around at all three of them. "I'll tell you it all, but can we find somewhere to sit. I fear this ankle of mine won't hold out for a long period of time."

"Here," Athos murmured gently as his features softened somewhat and he slipped an arm around her waist. "Lean on me."

They walked the trees that surrounded the Louvre for a time until they came across what appeared to be a small camp. There were other musketeers there, with trunks full of weapons and ammunition and kegs of liquid that Amorette hoped was water for she suddenly realised she was sorely thirsty.

"Do you remember that gap in the fence you once used to escape these gardens Madam?" Porthos asked Amorette as Athos led her to a tree stump and helped her lower herself onto it.

"That's how I got here," Amorette replied with a nod.

"Same as us," said Porthos. "Their patrols don't run the perimeter of that fence but I dare say we won't have long here before they venture this way."

"I've been in that tree since before dawn this morning, and you are the first people I've seen in all that time." Amorette shrugged. "From what I've seen heard of these men, I can't see them being foolish enough to overlook such a hidden spot. It seems odd to me."

She told them what she knew, both what she had been directly told and what she had overheard or surmised herself over the course of the last few days, trying her hardest to leave no details out even though she knew that her story was sketchy and all over the place. Athos pressed a tankard into her hands at one point and she brought it to her lips automatically, grimacing as the unexpected warmth of brandy hit the back of her throat.

"I'm sorry," said D'artagnan when she had finally finished. "But I don't understand how these Medici's think they have a stronger claim to the throne than the crowned King. He himself has a Medici mother."

Amorette nodded her agreement. "I had given that some thought, but the thing is that they are Valois. There is no Bourbon blood even though they are still in fact distant cousins."

"I can't see the French people following such a King," Porthos announced. "They're mad, all of 'em!"

"Sometimes madness is all you need," Amorette mumbled darkly. She saw the sideways glance Athos shot her from the corner of her eye and tried to shake off the apprehensive mood that was beginning to envelope her. Why was it now that all of the hope and determination that she had found somewhere within her over the last two days was beginning to deplete when she was finally in the company of those she trusted the most. Perhaps it was the tiredness, for she had not really slept well up in the tree and now it seemed there would be little chance for sleep whilst everyone was in the mood for discussion.

Even the thought of another evening and night with little or no sleep made Amorette's head spin and she gently lowered her head into her hands as the others mumbled around her. Athos' hand came to rest ever so lightly upon her knee and Amorette suddenly had the strange desire to kick it off. Her anger and feelings of desperation for those still inside the Palace was increasing tenfold as they sat there and although there was an enormous part of her that did not want to know what atrocities had occurred in her absence, she knew she would need to know everything if she was going to be any help at all. Athos would not be able to spare any men to take her to Versailles now, and there was nowhere in the city she could hide because all of the buildings had been locked and boarded up. He would know that the safest place for her was by his side.

Amorette lifted her head up and gave it a shake, trying to dispel the tiredness from her eyes as she began to ask her own questions of the musketeers. She was rather shocked to find that they had been camping within the trees for almost a day.

"So, you've not even tried to get into the Palace to get some of those people out?" she asked rather abruptly as a spark of irritation slid up her spine.

"We've already been in and out," D'artagnan confirmed.

"What?" Amorette cried. "Then why have you not tried to get people out? How did you get in?"

Athos' grip upon her knee tightened suddenly as if he was warning her to keep her emotions in check. "Your escape route from the Louvre is not the only secluded passageway from the Palace Amorette. As yet our way in is still undiscovered. It leads from the Dauphin's rooms and is how Treville spirited the Dauphin away a few mornings ago. To those inside, it appears only to be a small window but the wooden panelling below it gives way when the right amount of force is used. From the outside that area of wall is nothing more than stone-work with a small fissure just about big enough for D'artagnan to slip through."

"You've been inside?" Amorette asked the younger man. He gave a solemn nod. "Constance?" Amorette asked, suddenly fearful.

"She's well Madam; looks a right sight better than you do right now."

"That's not funny," Amorette mumbled even as she sent up a prayer of thanks. Her mind still jarred at the thought of all of the other people that she knew that were likely still secluded somewhere within the Palace with no way out. "How have you all just sat here when you know there are people in there? Shouldn't you have used this doorway to get people out?"

Athos sighed heavily as if he had known that he would have to explain all of this to her eventually. "Amorette we all want to get those people out just as much as you do but it is too difficult a task. All of the court is separated and locked away in different parts of the Palace. We were lucky in that D'artagnan was able to speak with Constance when he ventured inside and we have also been communicating through windows with signals to those inside. To attempt to move them all now would be too risky. We would not get far before we were discovered and we would not reach everyone in time. They would also notice small numbers of courtiers disappearing. There are courtiers working from the inside to improve our prospects in such matters. They are attempting to regroup and will send us a signal to move in when they have all been moved to one part of the Palace. We think it highly likely that will be happening at some point today. Once we have all or most of the people together we can move in and take control of that part of the Palace. To go in now would surely mean failure. We do have the upper hand in a way as we are able to correlate information from inside. I do believe they have heard nothing yet from their counterparts outside the Palace which is what makes the information that you have brought to us so valuable."

"So, we are just going to wait?" she asked.

"We have to," said Porthos. "Those inside can assess the situation there far better than we can right now. There are courtiers in there who have gone to war and have been on a battlefield. They have some understanding of what we mean to do and it would be foolish not to use the information they can supply us with."

"So, this is what you've been doing all this time?" Amorette asked as she tried and failed to keep the incredulity from her tone. "Just hiding and waiting?" on the whole, all three of them appeared relatively unscathed compared to herself and Amorette couldn't help wondering why they hadn't acted before now.

Athos gripped her wrist tightly. "Amorette we had no choice! You have to understand that we did not know if Aramis had made it all the way back to Paris or if you and the Queen had even escaped the Palace to meet him. We were intending to tread carefully to ensure the safety of everyone inside! Do not for one moment think that we all sat idle though. We have been backwards and forwards into the city, following our own leads and trying to ensure that there was calm upon the streets-"

"There's no one in the streets," Amorette parried. "Even I know that. I might be half dead by the looks of things but I can still observe the important facts for myself."

Athos sighed heavily and she knew that his patience with her was beginning to wear thin. Instead of a rebuke though, he stayed silent and although she couldn't bring her own eyes to meet his, Amorette knew that he was gazing at her. He shifted where he sat on the ground beneath her so that he could turn fully towards her but still she refused to turn her head. In her mind, she thought he was probably assessing the damage; thinking how ugly she looked all bruised and bloody with her hair in God knows what shape and dirty skirts that were not even her own. There would likely be anger there too, because as usual she had found herself in danger entirely of her own making. Right now, he would be wishing that she was as far away from him as possible; perhaps even further than Versailles. By rights Amorette could comprehend that it was probably a more sensible idea to remain with the Queen and Aramis and to travel on to Versailles with them but now that she looked back upon it; there was never much chance she was going to leave him behind.

She had come back for him, and what a state she looked. She nearly hadn't found him and it was only for Henry Fitzgerald that she had. If Henry hadn't gotten her out Amorette was sure that she likely would have been dead by now. Looking back, she knew that the Spanish would have broken her more quickly than even she could have anticipated and she had no inclination what she might have told them.

The thought made her shudder. All of the secrets that she had kept about the Queen and about Marie coming tumbling out of her mouth was how she would have died; a cowards' death as she gave up her friends for the slaughter for nothing other than to expedite her own death. How was she supposed to explain that desperate feeling of self-disappointment to Athos that she had been upon the brink of tearing everything apart that she had for so long tried to keep together?

"Amorette? Amorette look at me please?"

She didn't move or reply and Athos shifted again until he was crouching in front of her. Amorette dipped her head even lower to avoid eye contact and was vaguely aware of Porthos and D'artagnan beginning to move as well. As they stood, they turned to walk away and Amorette wondered if Athos had signalled to his friends to leave them for a time. Feeling even more exposed now that she was alone with him, Amorette tried to knot her hands together in her lap but Athos prised them apart to hold them in his own hands.

"Amorette I know your tired and-"

"Tired and upset?" she cried indignantly then as she threw her head up to meet his gaze, surprised to find that her outburst had not shocked him. "Was that what you were going to say? I'm not tired and upset Athos, I'm angry! Look what they did to me?" She tore her hands from his and gestured wildly to her face. "Look at the state of me! What's hardest for me to come to terms with is that I let this happen! I let them tear chunks from me whilst I thought about my own impending doom! They almost had me you know! If it had gone on for any longer, I couldn't have been held accountable for what I told them! I didn't think that in my lifetime I would ever meet a man who could terrify me as much as my father does but Garcia Casales is certainly his match. I might have told him that the Queen was at Versailles! I might have given her up just like that!"

Amorette was almost screaming at Athos as he gripped her forearms tightly and pulled her into his chest. "They would not have broken you Amorette," he whispered into her hair. "I know they wouldn't have simply because here you sit, fretting over the secrets that you have within your mind and of how you might have divulged them but you have given no thought whatsoever to your own safety and your own life! I do not know if I could be as strong as you have been over the last three days. Therefore, I think you have every right to be tired and upset. I'm shocked you've held it together for so long!"

Amorette let a dark chuckle escape her lips as she noticed that again she had not shed any tears. "If we do make it out of the other side of all of this Athos, you may find that I am in need of a spell in an asylum."

"Not if," he replied as he pulled away a little so that he could look at her, "When. We will see the other side of this in one form or another but it will not be easy. We may take back part of the Louvre and lose it again in no time at all. It may be days or weeks before we find a resolution so I need you to try and channel whatever it is that's kept you alive these last two days. We will all need the help of one another to enable our plan to work. We will also need each other afterwards, for we do not know what these next days will bring."

"It was you that kept me alive. I needed to see you again," Amorette sobbed as the tears finally began to prick her eyes. "You were what gave me strength but you were also very nearly the reason that I almost broke. How can that be? It's terrifying that just thinking of you can do that to me!"

Athos gathered her into his arms again and Amorette was aware he did not know what to say to soothe her. She felt him stiffen as he held her though and she too heard the sound of movement from behind her.

"We've got movement in the Palace," came Porthos' cry. "looks like things are happening sooner than any of us thought!"

As one the crowd of musketeers and Amorette moved into line at the edge of the trees, waiting for their chance to make a break for it and tear across the lawns towards the Palace. Amorette was still not sure how they intended to make their plan work faultlessly and was sure that she would certainly hinder things; not least because having sat for a time her ankle had stiffened and she could no longer put any weight on it. Staying within the trees alone was not an option though and Amorette had not considered it. They needed to remain wholly undetected so that the plan the musketeers had concocted would work and the Spanish finding her would cause many problems.

Athos held her tightly to his side with an arm around her waist to help her along and Porthos was ready and poised on her other side to take her arm and propel her forward should she need the help. They all waited with bated breath, hardly daring to even look around them lest the sunlight revealed them in some way. The wait was agonising, and not just because of Amorette's ankle. She knew how important this was. If they got this wrong they might not get another chance to get inside the Palace of their own free will and in the direction they wanted. In the silence Amorette's throbbing head began to take precedence again. For a while her relief seemed to have numbed the pain but as the glaring sun cut her eyes from beyond the trees she blinked dazedly. She wanted nothing more in that second to lift her hand to prop the side of her head up but there was no time for such weakness when everyone else was finally breathing in the anticipation that they had waited days for.

The shadows had just begun to grow longer, signalling that the sun was beginning it's slow and agonising decent when they finally glimpsed it; a lone lit candle in one of the upper windows that Amorette thought she recognised as the Dauphin's rooms.

"Go!" D'artagnan whispered harshly down the line. "Move!"

They moved as one again, racing across the lawns as fast as they could for they did not know how much time they would have to reach the walls before the Spanish and Italian men returned to that side of the Palace and glimpsed them out of the window. Amorette fell behind in only a few seconds; dragging her protesting ankle along in her wake as she moved, her breaths coming in short and sharp stabs of pain. Running at such a speed in a corset that she had not removed or loosened the ties of in three days took its toll almost immediately. She wasn't even looking where she was going any more, counting on Athos' arm around her to guide her in the right direction as she concentrated on dragging in breaths of air. All of it was almost knocked from her when she was suddenly knocked off her feet.

"ATHOS!" she yelled in protest as without stopping he had scooped her up and thrown her over his shoulder. The jostling of his shoulder against her waist was almost as bad as the pain and exertion of running but she could clearly tell that Athos made better progress when he wasn't dragging her along at his side. They reached the wall of the Louvre without incident and Amorette was finally placed back upon her own feet as she still struggled to catch a breath.

"Why didn't you do that in the first place?" Porthos asked as he tried not to laugh at Amorette's new ire.

"She would not permit it," Athos muttered.

" _She_ is not willing to be manhandled even by a musketeer!" Amorette growled tersely.

"Why don't we save this conversation for a more suitable time?" Athos asked her with a raised eyebrow and Amorette agreed with a solemn nod as Porthos let out a chuckle.

"What do we do now then?"

Athos nodded beyond her in answer to her question and Amorette turned just in time to witness D'artagnan slipping through a fissure in the wall. "Follow D'artagnan…"

They waited in line as one after another the musketeers before them followed D'artagnan into the crevice in the stonework that looked as if it were not really there at all. Just in front of them, Porthos patted the wall bemusedly and slipped his shoulder into the dark void. Amorette and Athos watched him struggling into the gap due to his large frame and Amorette did think for a few seconds that the man would get stuck. He groaned a little as his other shoulder gradually disappeared from sight.

"I would not have even known this was here," Amorette mused.

"it's rather clever, isn't it?" said Athos as he pushed her forward a little. "The way it blends with the sharp lines of the stone work. Even from close up in broad daylight it's hard to discern, looks to the unknowing eye like a small shadowed alcove."

Amorette was next to delve into the gap. She pushed in with relative ease which surprised her. She had not expected to fit so easily and she began to shuffle sideways, losing sight of Athos behind her as the crevice curved suddenly away from the light. Darkness enveloped her and she panicked a little, her feet stumbling over the stones that littered the ground. What was the point in having a window that was really a door in this part of the wall when the crevice let in no light at all? Still unable to catch her breath, she was gasping for air in the tight space despite the fact she was thin enough to slip through with no problems at all.

She began to trail her hands along the wall of stone in front of her, searching for an opening. Her head began to spin as she realised she couldn't find her way out. "Athos?" she called in desperation, but she couldn't hear or see him. She threw her hands out wildly as she caught a glimpse of light ahead. A hand caught hers and pulled. She slid to the ground as soon as she was free of the crevice and glanced up at Porthos. "Please tell me we aren't leaving via the same route?"

"Well I won't be if I have anything to eat!" he chuckled lightly.

Athos appeared a second later, struggling a little but not as much as Porthos had. The small space had not spooked him as much as it had Amorette though. "Are you alright?" he asked as he held out his hand to help her up.

She nodded slowly. "As long as there are no more confined spaces I will be. Corsets are constricting enough."

They moved on, passing through the little window that was actually a door. The panelling on the inside blended inconspicuously with the décor of the room beyond. It was a dank and empty room void of any furniture and had been kept in such a way since the Dauphin had been born and had taken up residence in his own apartment upstairs. The other musketeers were stood at ease, whispering quietly whilst D'artagnan stood with his arm draped across his wife's shoulders. She had evidently been the one to light the candle on the upper floor and had been waiting for them. Porthos squeezed Constance's shoulder gently as he passed and she threw him a small smile over her shoulder. She turned back into the room to catch sight of Amorette watching her and threw off D'artagnan's arm. Constance embraced her with such force that Amorette thought she might topple over, very aware of Athos' steadying hand upon the small of her back.

Secluded in the dauphin's rooms which had been ransacked and torn apart three days earlier according to Constance, Amorette let Athos slip off her shoe to examine her ankle. She was too tired to think illicit thoughts as he slipped off her stocking and his warm hand gently gripped her ankle. He gently pressed his fingers against her skin and Amorette let out a low hiss.

"Here, bandage it with this," said Constance as she produced what looked like a silk scarf. "But make it quick, we need to move from these rooms before they return on their patrol."

"Where are we going?" Athos asked her as she bustled about, picking up various pieces of clothing and scraps of parchment as she went.

"Into the next wing," she replied. "Some of us were held in this room on the first and second day, but they moved us this morning into one of the larger halls. Most of the court is together now apart from the King's cousins. We don't know where they are but the Duke of Buckingham was trying to find them."

"George is here?" Amorette asked, her surprise evident.

Constance nodded as Athos scowled. "Before you say anything Athos, the Duke has been an indispensable help to all of us. I know you have your differences, but his contacts and his slippery charm where what got everyone rallying together this morning. He's been working to distract those Italian brutes all day whilst the rest of us tried to gather what we needed. We have taken back this side of the Palace, but if I'm honest I don't know how long we can hold it! We have weapons, and quite a lot of them but do we not have enough men to take the rest of the Palace back?"

"Won't they notice the brigade of musketeers that's been added to the mixture?" Amorette asked solemnly.

Constance shrugged. "They didn't expect us to fight back, that I am certain of. I think many of them were taken by complete surprise when we staged a number of ambushes. Some of them were killed but most ran to regroup in another part of the Palace."

Athos helped her stand and together they began to move towards the doorway and out into a deserted corridor. "I don't like this!" Athos hissed at Constance. Amorette hadn't even realised that he had produced his pistol until they came to a corner and he pushed them both behind him, his pistol cocked in readiness.

Constance let out a little huffed sigh that only Amorette heard. "The others came this way only a few minutes ago. It's still safe!"

Satisfied that the hallways were empty, Athos pulled Amorette along with him as they moved quickly, scurrying through the long gallery and up another flight of stairs to reach another wing of the Palace.

As they shuffled along, Amorette began to tell Constance everything that she had previously told the musketeers, hoping something might be of help to her friend. There was something within her though that was hesitant about discussing Henry Fitzgerald. He had saved her life, but Amorette was not sure whether he had done it for her or to save his own conscience.

"Where's Claude?" Amorette asked her friend in an attempt to change the subject. "Is Sacha with her?"

Constance looked conflicted. "Sacha is safe I think. He and the little one were in his rooms in the city. He's likely shut himself in. Claude and I were separated early on. I saw her briefly this morning but with everything that has happened over the last few hours we haven't really had a chance to speak."

It was in one of the larger meeting halls that they found the other musketeers and most of the courtiers. It was a slightly depleted amount as many had travelled into the country, fearful that the rumours about Paris being attacked would come true. Amorette couldn't blame them when she glanced around her and saw the chaos that ensued around them. Men were arming themselves all around them, with husbands and fathers telling their families to remain hidden whilst they were gone.

"Buckingham's taken some of his English friends off in search of the King's cousins," D'artagnan conformed as he pulled away from a group of young noblemen. "Once they return, we should move in and try to take more rooms back. We need Buckingham's men though. He has thirty men with him."

Amorette was slightly taken aback by the youngest musketeer's rather ambitious ideas but she thought that perhaps that was what was needed to keep spirits up within the hall. "Perhaps the cousins are locked away where the Queen and I were?" Amorette mused. "That was in an older part of the Palace. Don't ask me to give you directions because I'll fail miserably. I might be able to find it though if I walk it out."

Athos nodded his agreement. "I suppose it might be worth a try."

"We've searched everywhere else," shrugged a young Comte who was listening in from the other side of the room.

"D'artagnan, Porthos, with us then," called Athos. "Constance, if Buckingham returns, keep him here."

Constance nodded eagerly, now holding a musket herself.

Amorette had no idea where she was. They were in the older part of the Palace but perhaps as the light was slightly different, she could not discern hallways or corridors that she had glimpsed before. Athos and the others were walking a little ahead of her, now discussing returning to the larger group. They had come across two groups of men on their travels; the first Italian. The men had not known that they had company until Porthos and Athos attacked them from behind. There was no time to react and they were dead within seconds. Stepping over their bodies, Amorette had glanced back briefly as she wondered if any of them were the Italian men that had manhandled herself and the Queen three days ago, but she found that she could not remember their faces clearly. The second group had been Spanish, and had put up much more of a fight. D'artagnan was now sporting what would swiftly become a black eye and one of them had even managed to get a knife close to Porthos, slashing his forearm savagely. Athos had wrapped his scarf around it to stem the blood flow and Porthos had shrugged it off as if it was nothing.

Amorette stopped as she reached a junction of four separate hallways. Staring down the one to her left, she wondered if she recognised it. She was almost sure that at the other end of the corridor she could glimpse the opening of the staircase she had been forced to climb with the Queen days earlier. She opened her mouth to call out to Athos and the others, but what came out was a strangled scream as a hand suddenly clamped tightly around her and dragged her backwards into a solid body. She felt the cold pressure of the barrel of a pistol against her temple.

"I told you to leave lass!" Henry wheezed in her ear as the three musketeers up ahead turned and caught sight of them. Athos spun on his heel, racing back towards them along the intricately tiled floor with the others in his wake. "I told you that if I saw you again I'd kill you myself!" Henry was clearly out of breath and worn out, but Amorette still felt herself no match for his size.

"Henry please-"

"Don't bother with your pleading lass! I'll kill you right now for your musketeer to see!"

Something within him had snapped. It was as if an entirely different person were holding her hostage. His voice was elevated and gruff at the same time, the hand holding the pistol shaking wildly. Amorette felt fear grip her heart as the realisation settled upon her that this new Henry was not the man that had saved her life some hours before, and he would kill her without a second thought. Something had happened to him in the hours since Amorette had parted from him. Vaguely she wondered if the realisation of Shauna's death had only just come upon him. He had seen it happen though, he had watched her fall just as Amorette had done.

"Fitzgerald," Athos snarled, clearly trying extremely hard to contain his anger, "Let her go. Let her go and I will shoot you in the head. It will be a quick death compared to what the Spanish likely have in store for you!"

The pistol pressed even harder into Amorette's head and she winced in pain. "What makes you think they'll kill me? After I kill all of you lot and stop whatever game it is you play here, I'll have rescued their scheme. They will need me alive!"

The shaking of the hand stopped suddenly, and Amorette reacted on instinct. She became strangely aware in that second that he was going to shoot, so she threw her elbow backwards and upwards at the same time until it made sharp contact as the swift recollection of his injured shoulder came to her mind.

What happened next would be a sequence of events so fast that for the rest of her life Amorette would not clearly remember in what order they occurred. Still standing at the junction of hallways, a door flew open somewhere and Amorette heard a shrill squeal that accompanied a single shot. The sound of the shot was so close that it reverberated through her ear and into her whole body as the pistol went off. For seconds afterwards she thought she herself had been hit as she fought with henry's arm that still held her. There were also the shouts from the hallway to her left and the sound of screeching boot soles as a stampede of men surged forward, their shots firing over her head. The only sight Amorette recalled vividly was Athos barrelling towards her, his own pistol firing over her shoulder as he pushed her out of the way.

Amorette turned as something wet brushed against her ankle. Henry Fitzgerald's grip tightened and he tried to pull her down with him. She kicked out at him, yelling in protest even as his bloody hand returned to press over the wound in his chest. It was the other lifeless body she surged towards, falling to her knees in the pool of Claude's blood as she let out a wail of anger and despair. Claude had come from their right, running towards Amorette as she caught a glimpse of her in trouble and had inadvertently placed herself in the firing line when Amorette had tried to break free from Henry.

Buckingham and his friends had found the King's cousins and were returning to the hall where the courtiers were congregating when they had come across Henry and Amorette. Buckingham and his friends had fired too, seconds too late. They all missed because Athos' shot had hit home and Henry collapsed to the floor where he now lay, gazing at Amorette sorrowfully.

She had angered and offended him by wrenching herself from his grip. His hand struck out once more towards her, trying to grab a fistful of her now bloody skirts. "NO!" she cried loudly as she batted away his hand and shuffled closer to Claude.

"We need to move!" D'artagnan was calling. "Someone will have heard the commotion. We need to move before we are found."

"Good luck getting her up off the floor," Porthos replied briskly.

Amorette was sitting in a pool of slowly congealing blood. She stared down at the bodies of two of her closet friends in life as if she were in a daze. Just like that her whole life had changed. Any meaning or comfort she had derived from both Henry and Claude's friendship over the years was now beginning to take on a new form, and yet they would be inextricably linked forever. Henry's arm lay outstretched towards her, making one last reach for her before he had passed. His face was twisted in anguish and held all of the hate and angst that he had cultivated for years, turning the bright and funny young Scotsman into something vile. He was not suffering or in pain any more though. He was no longer having to hide his true self. There could have been no other end for him and Amorette knew it. Buckingham had told her that so many times and yet Amorette had still held out hope that one day she would see the flicker of the young man she had met at Buckingham's parties all of those years ago. That was not to be.

It was Claude who tore her heart asunder, peacefully lying as if she were but asleep. Amorette wanted to grab onto her shoulders and shake her until she woke. She wanted to be able to tell the one person who had taught her so much about herself that she loved her. Claude had been nothing short of the most needed friend she had ever had. Her shameless confidence had been one of the biggest lessons for Amorette since she had come to Paris, and the newfound confidence that she had discovered was thanks to Claude. Without her forward-thinking friend, Amorette might never have plucked up the courage to finally be with Athos in the way that she had always dreamed of being. Those pale blue glassy eyes stared heavenward unblinkingly, and Amorette thought her like an angel. A wave of rapid and crushing sadness overwhelmed her then as she thought of Sacha Rouzet and of all of Claude's children. She thought most poignantly of her little God-daughter who was a little over a year old and was now motherless; lying upon the floor of the Louvre Palace with a musket ball shaped hole in her forehead.

A hand gently brushed Amorette's shoulder and she flinched away from it. Buckingham's hand; she thought because of the cold touch of the rings upon his fingers as they brushed against her skin. He did not try to touch her again. The floor was cold and hard beneath her, but Amorette did not think upon it. The blood was soaking through her skirts and she ignored that too. Her injured ankle was twisted beneath her where she had landed upon the floor and she felt the odd need to press down upon it further, to cause herself yet more pain as a reminder of what had happened in the last few moments. Claude would not have died if it had not been for her, that Amorette was sure of.

She reached forward tentatively and brushed away a few specks of blood from her friend's face with the end of her sleeve, not caring about the state of the Queen's dress. Her hands would not stop moving after that. She began to brush Claude's golden hair back from her face and removed a hair pin to replace it a little more tightly. She plucked at the bows of Claude's dress until they were sitting straighter and more proudly upon the green brocade velvet. She patted down her friend's skirts and creased the pleats again so that they sat in uniform formation and her fingers ghosted back to Claude's wrist. Her gold chain bracelet was twisted and the charms lay haphazardly. She began to fight with the clasp to adjust the bracelet, letting out a hiss of frustration when it would not budge.

"That's enough Amorette, come on," said Athos softly from behind her.

Amorette shook her head as he gently tugged on her arm. "No! I don't want to leave her! I can't!"

"We won't leave her…" Athos mumbled as he gave up trying to coax Amorette and lifted her by the waist. She didn't fight him as he lifted her away and set her on her feet again, finding that her tiredness was creeping upon her again. "Porthos and D'artagnan will help to move her. Then we can deal with Fitzgerald."

"No," came Buckingham's cold and concise bark. "I'll move him myself."

Buckingham stepped forward and Amorette watched wide eyed as he leaned down to lift his Scottish friend with the help of one of his men.

"Did we do that to him George?" Amorette asked abruptly. "Did we turn him into that?" Buckingham opened his mouth to speak but Amorette carried on. "All of our schemes and games, did that turn him into a monster? Was it always destined to turn out this way because we were always showing him what he could never have; flaunting our influence before him like he was some sort of puppet?"

"He was no monster Amorette, you need to remember that!" Buckingham wasn't looking at her, concentrating instead on trying to hold Henry's weight. "He was a human being and sometimes humans take a path in life that is not the one that was lain out for them. Nevertheless, it is their choice. Calling him a monster makes it seem that he almost didn't have a choice because the evil overtook him or drained his humanity. He was most certainly human and he most certainly made his own choices. We did nothing to him apart from love him for who he was."

Amorette sat with her back against the wooden panelled wall, her legs stretched to their full length. Her skirt had ridden up a bit to expose her blood-stained stockings and slippers and her corset was pinching her sides painfully, but the pain was welcome. At least she felt something. All other feelings had escaped her in the last few hours. She had not said a word as the bodies had been placed in rooms down the hallway and the musketeers had instructed that everyone within their wing of the Palace retire to courtier's apartments in groups. People had readily agreed, feeling the bite of weariness after the day's events and had quickly set about agreeing upon groups and a cycle of lookouts for the evening. Amorette had let herself be pushed to and from hallways until they had reached the rather sparse but peaceful rooms on the third floor that felt no safer than any other part of the Palace. Someone had brought food, declaring that cellars had been raided and that there was more than enough wine and food for everyone but Amorette pushed the platter of food away as it made its way past her. She couldn't recall the last time food had passed her lips and did not care for it even though she knew she should eat. In lighter situations, she might have chastised herself for being so careless but she did not feel hungry at all. In fact, there was an overwhelming part of her that wanted to be sick.

Constance was trying to clean the cuts to her head and face with a damp cloth and Amorette let her do it even though it bothered her. She had not the motivation or energy to snap at Constance or anyone else for that matter. She was glad that everyone else left her alone. The musketeers had agreed they should separate themselves amongst the rooms of courtiers and she was now ensconced in a room with Constance, Athos, Porthos, D'artagnan and a rather large noble family who had crowded into one of the bed chambers. The father and two eldest sons had slept for a time and had just returned to the main parlour to relieve Porthos and D'artagnan who dozed in chairs by the fire. Athos had refused to stand down, stating that he was not tired but Amorette thought it was more likely that he had not wanted to retire whilst she was still very awake.

Constance tugged on Amorette's chin lightly and began to wipe at the cut on Amorette's neck. Tears flowed freely down the seamstress' face and Amorette wished that she too could show such emotion. Instead though she felt numb inside.

"You must have been so brave," Constance whispered gently to her. "I can't…" she sniffed. "I can't bear thinking of you being so mistreated. A…and…Claude…Claude gone…"

Amorette grabbed Constance's wrist and squeezed. She might not be able to feel anything herself in that moment, but she was keenly aware of how alien that made her feel. She wanted to comfort her friend and cry herself. She wanted to behave as all other humans did in such circumstances. She let Constance embrace her swiftly and tightly, letting out a hiss of pain as her corset pinched her sides painfully again.

Constance jerked away from her at the sound, her sobs ceasing. "Are you hurt elsewhere?"

The image swam into Amorette's mind of being trussed to that chair, with Garcia Casales above her, pressing his weight into her body, trying to drain the air from her lungs. She had not the inclination to try and pretend it had not happened any longer. She nodded stiffly, hoping that Athos wasn't listening. Constance's eyes widened and Amorette gestured to her torso. "Perhaps if you unlaced my corset a little, that might ease the pain."

He had been listening. The booted feet arrived before them then, but he made no comment upon Amorette's injuries. He didn't need to. His nostrils flared in anger and Amorette could see a vein on his neck pulsing. "Go through into the other bed chamber," he said gently to Constance. His softly spoken words were a contradiction to the pain and anger in his voice. "You can both get some rest there."

Constance wasted no time in dragging Amorette to her feet, asking Athos to wake her when the watch was due to change. Both women knew though that was unlikely to happen. In the small bed chamber Constance helped Amorette undress and let out a sharp exhale of breath as she glimpsed the purple bruises upon Amorette's diaphragm in the fading light. She patted them ever so gently with a salve that Amorette had no idea how she had got hold of. Amorette dressed again though despite her friend's protests, feeling sure that she needed to be fully dressed should something occur during the night.

Despite her exhaustion sleep did not claim her immediately. Her mind was abuzz with the day's events and the things she had witnessed. She was lying on her side, with her back to Constance and knew her friend lay in the same position. They had both thrown their hands out behind them to grip ever so tightly onto each other though.

When Amorette woke, the sound of soft breathing reached her ears and she found herself still in the same position that she had fallen asleep in. She rolled over onto her other side, squinting in the darkness at a from on the bed beside her that was very clearly not Constance. She moved immediately, closing the space between them until she could curl up at Athos' side. He was not asleep though. He pulled her even closer to him as his arms carefully snaked around her. She nuzzled into his neck, his beard scratching her forehead lightly and she was overwhelmed with a feeling of such comfort and secureness that she let out a throaty groan.

He stiffened beside her and Amorette's mind began to work. She needed to feel something, and who better to help her than Athos. She began to kiss him, gently at first so as to judge his own agreement but he kissed her back. She deepened the kiss quite quickly, needing him to take charge but knowing at the same time that he would not. He would never presume to act so rashly when she was so upset. He was sitting propped up against the pillows and Amorette took that as an opportunity. She straddled him so that she could get closer, a slight bulge growing beneath her as she ground her hips into his.

His hands were on either side of her waist, but they began to wonder as they kissed. They found the tops of her breasts and Athos began to fondle them gently, no real force there that would have alluded to his usual fervent abandon. In that second Amorette knew he would not let her go much further. He was more than likely so finely tuned now to her emotions and mood swings that he knew what it was that she thought she wanted in that moment and understood what it was she really needed. There would be time for it, she promised herself; when all of it was over. They would go back to his cosy lodgings and stay there in bed for days on end, talking and eating and laughing and…

She pulled away from the kiss, letting her head drop into his shoulder. She lifted a knee slightly, ready to relieve him of her weight but his hands clamped down upon her thighs, holding her in place. His face was buried in her hair and they stayed like that for an age, Amorette wondering if she could fall asleep like that. Just as her eyes began to droop, the resounding thuds came.

The door burst open and she was ripped from him by rough hands that took no mercy. Amorette screamed and kicked, and Athos cried out too but they had taken him completely by surprise.

 _ **I feel awful for killing off two characters that I really do love, but at least it wasn't one of the musketeers!**_


	73. Chapter 73

_**Thank you so much for the reviews pallysdeeks, .el and Roberta Lozano! First of all, I want to say a massive sorry for killing off two characters in the last chapter! They were two that I did love and I did not want to have to kill them, but I just could not envision such an attack on Paris happening and for everyone we like to remain unscathed! (I learnt that when JK Rowling killed off Remus Lupin; which I'm still not okay about!) So, two had to die, and whilst I did not want to kill any of the immediate cast, it had to be done some way. I think Henry Fitzgerald had to die and Amorette knew that I think. He was too far gone with all of these Spanish schemes to come out on top again. He was not a bad person but he was not wholly good any more either.**_

 _ **As for Claude, I hate myself for it. She's the kind of friend every woman needs! Without killing off one of the musketeers I think this was the death I could see most affecting Amorette, both for bad and good reasons. I really did procrastinate with the last chapter because I just did not want to write those deaths, but I think I need to plough on if I'm going to finish the story any time soon! It's not over yet as you can tell by the end of the last chapter and there's still a way to go before we see things resolved in some way!**_

 _ **As for Buckingham, I'm glad you all liked him in the last chapter! I did toy with his death being one of the two in the last chapter but my planned epilogues saved him.**_

 _ **Soooo, should warn you that at the end of this chapter there is the mention of rape. We do not see the actual act but the build-up is there.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Amorette had never fought harder in her life. She kicked and punched every inch of the men that held her, screaming at the top of her lungs but they had entirely gained the upper hand. They had dragged Athos from the bed onto his knees on the floor and had beat him whilst Amorette was forced to watch. Athos had fought like a wild cat, and Amorette thought she had never seen such desperation and fear in his eyes as slowly, tiredness began to overwhelm him. One last punch to the side of the head had him collapsing sideways to land with a heavy thud upon the floor and Amorette howled. She tried with all of her might to get to him; fighting furiously against the Spaniard who was restraining her until he clamped a large hand around her throat and squeezed.

She heeded his warning as shards of light began to dance in front of her eyes and she saw two of everything. Even when she had entirely given up and slumped forward in his arms, he did not release her. She was carried from the room back into the parlour, where the clear signs of destruction and chaos were there for all to see. The courtiers who had shared the opposite bedchamber had given themselves up without a fight and remained seemingly unharmed. Amorette could not find the malice to blame them as she tried to avoid the terrified gazes of their children. This was not a sight for such eyes, to see her own parents manhandled and degraded by such men. D'artagnan seemed to have also been taken by surprise for he lay unconscious near the fireplace, a bloody nose obscuring any other facial injuries that he might have had. Constance too was being held like Amorette was, and sported a nasty red welt upon the side of one cheek. Tears ran unchecked from her eyes as she stared at her husband's unconscious form.

Porthos had taken the last watch before dawn and had been closest the door but he too was sporting injures. There was a nasty gash on the side of his throat and a cut lip that was swelling rapidly. He still growled and struggled against the hold of the three men behind him and Amorette watched in trepidation as Porthos' whole demeanour changed when a gently stirring Athos was carried from the bedchamber. He seemed to grow even angrier, and more reluctant to give in.

Amorette tried to shake her head at him, to tell him that now was not the time to pick fights when they were all practically helpless but he would not catch her eye. From beyond the doorway they could hear the chaos of the adjacent rooms as other courtiers and musketeers were dragged out of their hiding places.

They were not given much time to assess the situation though, for an order was given to move them all within a few minutes. Constance, Amorette and Porthos were the only three of their group able to walk on their own two feet, albeit haphazardly and they were pushed and shoved out into the courtyard of the Louvre Palace where there were yet more signs of devastation to be seen. Windows were broken and pieces of furniture had been thrown from them down onto the cobbled piazza. Curtains still attached to their rails inside billowed out of the broken windows into the stiff and cool early morning air as droplets of rain began to fall.

"And so, my prized jewel is returned to me…" Amorette stiffened immediately as the voice of Garcia Casales reached her ears. "How clever of you to have escaped in the first place," he whispered as he appeared from behind her and with a heavy hand upon her shoulder, forced her to her knees. The Spaniard who had restrained her relinquished his hold but still Amorette dared not move as Garcia knelt beside her, a ripening sneer coating his features. "How foolish of you though, to lead us straight to those you care about!"

"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" Porthos grumbled from Amorette's other side and she saw Garcia's eyes flick backwards and forwards between herself and Porthos.

He sighed satisfactorily as his grin grew wider. "Is this him then, the saviour you so hoped for? He's a little bigger and rougher around the edges than I'd have thought!" Amorette said nothing at all as Garcia took her chin between two fingers and gazed intently at her, waiting for a reaction. She decided that she would give nothing away at all. "What about the younger one then?" he asked as he pointed to a still unconscious D'artagnan and kicked out at his leg with only a little force.

"DON'T TOUCH HIM!" Constance snarled from somewhere behind Amorette. Amorette grimaced as she imagined the vision of the wildcat seamstress with angry tears streaming down her dace thrashing against those who held her as she tried to reach her husband. Amorette could not fathom how she found the energy for it.

"Perhaps not, as it seems he is already spoken for," chuckled Garcia. "What about this one then; the one with eyes only for you?"

Amorette had to turn her head in order to ascertain just who it was that Garcia meant, but she felt she already knew. Athos was being held up by two Spaniards and had clearly only just come to. He was gazing directly at her, with that intense stare that had before always unnerved her because she was unable to tell what he was thinking. Now though, she strangely thought she knew what he was trying to convey in such a look. He was apologising, and Amorette felt tears well in her eyes because he had nothing whatsoever to apologise for. Had she not watched him fight tooth and nail only moments before? Had he not been fighting for her every day for quite some time now?

Amorette's head snapped back around sharply as Garcia clutched her chin again. "This man is just a soldier. A Cometess and a musketeer? I really did think better of your taste Madam! I expected at least a Baron or perhaps even a well-connected Chevalier for a Madam such as yourself."

"He's worth ten of you," she mumbled so quietly that only Garcia could hear her. Then a little louder she said, "They all are."

"I suppose it makes no matter," announced Garcia as he stood to his full height again. "You will all day the self-same way."

They were marched through the city streets in a solemn procession, D'artagnan barely conscious and Athos still too weak to walk alone. Amorette's twisted ankle throbbed, sending shooting pains up her leg each time she attempted to put any weight upon it. She did not let it show though. They were forced into the Châtelet, with Porthos gaining some strength to try and fight back as they were escorted down into the cellar of the building. Constance and Amorette were separated from the group then amid many protests and fights and placed into their own cell that was lined with iron bars on three sides. The two women backed up against the wall, holding on tightly to each other as the lock was turned. Amorette knew that Constance was as terrified as she was that they were being left alone, but they needn't have worried too much.

Athos and D'artagnan were dragged into the cell beside them and dumped rather unceremoniously onto the ground. Porthos followed, void of any weapons and lacking any real momentum; he had no choice but to comply when pistols were aimed at Athos and D'artagnan. The Spaniards left them then, in relative silence. Amorette watched them leave, feeling an acute sense of desperation and confusion as to what they should do next. When she turned back around, Constance was already on her knees, reaching through the bars to pinch a moaning D'artagnan's nose to stop it from bleeding. Constance's hands were remarkably steady as she tried to help her injured husband but Amorette could feel hers trembling even as they balled into fists at her sides.

Porthos helped Athos into a sitting position and Amorette fell to her knees too, motioning for him to shuffle closer to the bars. He was sporting what was fast becoming a black eye and he held himself in such a way that told Amorette she was not the only one with injuries all over her torso. Her hands slipped into his and he clutched them tightly, his own hands trembling too.

"I'm sorry," Porthos said ever so quietly. "I feel asleep by the door and heard none of the commotion. If I had been awake we would have been ready for them!"

"This is not your fault Porthos," Athos sighed as he leaned back against the wall. "We were all exhausted and it was reckless to think we could all last the night on only a few hours' sleep. They were going to come for us eventually. We should have been better prepared. We should have all stayed together in that hall. Shut up in separate apartments they were able to pick us off one by one." Amorette wriggled her hands out of his grasp and pulled them back to her sides, realising what he was saying. He glanced up almost instantly, his one good eye blinking at her shrewdly in what little light they had. "This isn't your fault either," he said to her pointedly.

"Isn't it?" Amorette whispered incredulously. "We were only in those rooms because of what happened...what happened to Claude…" She shrugged and looked down into her lap, aware of his all too critical gaze. "They were right. I led them to you. You are all here because I am in possession of information that they want. What happens to the Queen and Aramis when they realise they are at Versailles? They will be hunted down too and-"

"The reason they are safe is because you kept your mouth shut Madam," cried Porthos. "Don't forget that, and don't think for a second that any of us would wish you here alone and ourselves somewhere safe. That is not what friends do."

Amorette shook her head. "Everything is lost now. How are we to come back from this? We were helping to take back the Palace and secure it so that the King and Queen might return with an army, but surely they will not do so now that there is no Paris to return to!"

"Don't make the mistake of underestimating the Queen," added Constance. "You did that once before Amorette!"

"She's with child! Very heavily I might add! It's a miracle she made it to Versailles!" Amorette let her shoulders slump in dejection. "It was foolish of me to hope she would return in her condition. She'll be in no fit state to return to Paris any time soon."

"I don't hold out much hope for the King," Porthos mumbled.

"Don't say that," said Athos. "He is still our King and we still owe him our loyalty."

"He isn't here to hear our words, is he?" came D'artagnan's slightly muffled voice from behind Constance's hand that still pinched his nose. "He made his choice the moment he ordered the Vicomte de Turenne to smuggle him out of the Palace and away to safety."

"You are not helping," Athos muttered to D'artagnan and Amorette missed the pointed glance he threw her way. "None of this is helping. We need to think upon how to get ourselves out of this mess."

"There is only one conceivable way to do that," said Amorette quietly. "We would have to give them what they want and after that they would only kill us anyway."

"All we have to do is find a way out of the Châtelet," shrugged Porthos. "I'm sure between the five of us we can come up with something."

The conversation lapsed into silence and Amorette hoped that the others were all considering ways to escape, because in those moments she herself could think of nothing that might aid them. There was only one way out, and that would undoubtedly incur its own problems. They did not have to wait long though before they were again joined by Spaniards.

Garcia Casales emerged from the gloom of the dark corridor with his two adopted Medici sons and an entourage of faces that Amorette recognised from the time she had spent in their captivity two days before. She stiffened upon instinct, drawing Athos' attention through the iron bars. There was something about the purpose of the men as they walked that left Amorette in no doubt that something intrinsic was about to take place, and she had the sneaking suspicion that would involve her.

Athos had reached a hand through the iron bars to grip her wrist tightly, part in warning and part in a reassuring gesture. Amorette did not know how he thought he would possibly protect her when she was locked behind iron bars. None of them were in any state to be attempting to fight back after what they had experienced over the past few days but no doubt the musketeers would certainly try. Athos' grip tightened around her wrist even further when the iron gate that encased Constance and Amorette in their cell was opened and Garcia approached them.

"We shall take the Cometess, and the rest shall remain here. If anyone tries to prevent such actions, there will be consequences."

Amorette tried to slip her wrist out of Athos' grip and saw the clear outrage in his features. "Athos," she whispered gently, "You have to let me go. You cannot hope to win such a fight. If they take me, you must think upon the fact that they are the most prominent men in all of this! You may be able to find a way out of here when their eyes are no longer upon you!"

"NO!" he cried but Amorette was succeeding in freeing herself from his grip. She pulled away sharply, feeling the absence of his touch keenly as devastated cobalt blue eyes stared back at her in clear confusion. she took in his bruised face and the tired and weary frown and nodded slowly to him. "Trust me," she whispered ever so quietly.

Just as Garcia reached for her, something darted in front of her and Amorette saw a flash of auburn hair flying through the air before she realised Constance had dived in front of her. Holding Amorette's arm in a vice-like grip, Constance wore a look of sheer and utter desperate defiance that would terrify even the strongest of men.

"She does not go anywhere alone!" Constance announced bravely. "If you want her, you have to take me too! I've lost one friend today and I'm not about to lose another. Either you take me too, or you take neither of us!"

"Constance…" D'artagnan warned but his wife threw him a look so scathing that he shrank back from the iron bars in seconds.

Garcia Casales seemed amused, despite his prior warnings. "You have courage Madam that would rival that of my sons. It is not an admirable trait in your case, but a foolish one! Nevertheless, I am inclined to heed your request, however abruptly it was phrased. Perhaps we might find a use for you in some form or another!"

Estevan stepped forward and tore Amorette from the corner where she stood and forced her to move. Constance was grabbed by Manuel and both women tried to block out the shouts and cries of protests of the musketeers from their minds as they were lead away.

"We will find you both!" Athos cried. "I promise we will find you!"

The building of the merchant's guild was cold and empty, save for the party of Spaniards and the two women. Constance and Amorette were forcibly separated as soon as they had entered the boarded-up building on the Rue du Grand Heuleu which was just off the Rue Saint Martin. Amorette might have felt weariness at so much movement through the city if she had not been fretting about Constance's whereabouts. She had been marched into what appeared to be a large meeting room that held a long mahogany table that was littered with documents and designs. Clearly, an early morning meeting had been interrupted when the Spanish had entered the city and all of the men present had likely run home to their families. Amorette switched between pacing the long room fretfully and sitting rather agitatedly at the table as she waited for something; anything to happen. It felt like she had been shut up alone for hours when in reality it had only been minutes. She tried to force her mind away from Constance and to their musketeer friends who were now likely under a lesser guard, judging by how many men Garcia Casales had brought along with him to the merchant's guild. Would they really be able to find a way out of the Châtelet? Amorette had her doubts, but she and Constance were no longer there to hold the musketeers up, and perhaps that would be a blessing.

With so many of what Amorette considered the prominent men inhabiting the same building as herself, she knew there was every chance that the musketeers might just manage an escape. Although Garcia would probably like her to think that he had many men within his inner circle at his direct disposal, Amorette knew that would be an outright lie. A coup such as this required diligence and money; but above all, secrecy. Most of the Spanish and Italian men currently within Paris would be hired mercenaries who worked to suit their own price. There would only be a select few who knew every detail of the scheme even now that they were in the thick of it. She hoped Athos had understood her when she had tried to tell him that in as little words as she could, so that he might have hope that he could escape the Châtelet with his friends.

The lock clicked and the door was abruptly thrown open to admit Garcia Casales, his sons and his friends who Amorette recalled from two days ago. There was little pretence to them this time and Amorette realised that perhaps for them time was beginning to wear a little thin.

"Cometess we shall be direct with our course of conversation," explained Garcia as he took the seat opposite Amorette at the table and steepled his hands in front of his face. "We know that our Scottish friend Señor Fitzgerald aided you in your first escape of us, but he has since gone to ground. Perhaps you might know where he is now?"

Amorette scoffed. They had to know that Henry was dead. Surely when they ransacked the rooms they had kept for a few hours in the Palace, they would eventually find Henry's body. Or perhaps these men were not as methodical as she had first thought. If they had been looking only for her and thought the courtiers of no real consequence, perhaps they had not searched every room.

"Henry Fitzgerald is dead," Amorette replied coldly.

There was just the slightest of an eyebrow twitch, the smallest hint of disappointment. Garcia Casales had not known that Henry was dead. "That is unexpected. I had hoped we might use him as leverage when it came to our debate with you Madam."

"Why do you need leverage? Surely you know I will not tell you anything!" Amorette gestured to her battered face as she spoke. "I took enough blows two days ago to prove that."

"Oh Cometess, come now; we both know there are many ways for a man to torture a woman into submission." Garcia grinned at Amorette rather lecherously as she felt herself pale. "I would hope that we would not have to consider those methods where you are concerned. You are a shrewd and intelligent woman. I had hoped you would weigh up the situation and decide save yourself from the misery and torment."

"I'm not one for saving myself," Amorette said in an attempt at bluntness.

"Because the soldier is always the one to rescue you?" Garcia chuckled lightly. "He is not here now to do so, but perhaps he has helped you in other ways during your time in Paris. You have not always been at Paris court, though have you? I do believe for a time you were in Spain, in the employ of a foreign body as a spy?"

"I was not employed by anyone!" Amorette cried. "I was there of my own accord!"

Garcia's apparent serene calmness was unnerving, so much so that Amorette felt herself sliding as far back as she could in her chair without it scraping across the wooden floor.

"So, you just happened to come across a young Spanish woman of disputable birth and decided to leave with her in tow did you?"

Amorette made no reply to the question, her mind suddenly flitting to Marie who was out there somewhere in the world and more than likely unaware of all of the upheaval her existence had brought about. They clearly had a vested interest in the girl, but Amorette really was no help to them at all because she genuinely did not know where Marie was. If she lied to them and gave them a location she had chosen at random, would they all about turn and head off in search of the girl? If they did, Amorette might stand a chance of escaping again. Was that all it would take to free herself this time.

It appeared she had taken too long to answer, and Garcia's patience with her had evaporated because he unexpectedly leapt forward as rage overtook him, grabbed a fistful of Amorette's hair and slammed her face into the table top. Stars danced before her eyes as blood gushed from her broken nose onto the cold varnished wood. Someone pulled her head back up from behind so that she was forced to stare, dazed into the furious eyes of Garcia.

"Perhaps a littler persuasion is needed then?"

Amorette heard a click as the door opened again. blinking harshly through the pain of her broken nose, it was a second or two before Amorette understood what was about to happen. Constance had been pushed into the room and Estevan approached the seamstress to let an arm fall around her shoulders. He smirked at Amorette as Constance pushed him away angrily.

"No." Amorette stated simply. "This will not happen. You will not touch her." She spat her own blood at Garcia again as she spoke, although this time it was not intentional. "I lost two friends yesterday. I will not lose another. You will not touch a hair on her head!"

"Then we are at an agreement Cometess are we not? You tell us where the girl is and your friend here does not die a slow and agonisingly tortuous death? Did I mention you would be watching such a spectacle?"

Amorette would have jumped from her chair and torn chunks from his face if she could have mustered the energy in that moment. Perhaps he knew of the dilemma she found herself in and how it tore apart her insides. She had wanted nothing more than to protect and shield Marie from any interference or harm and wished to continue doing so, but the girl was long gone. She had to deal with the present as best she could and worry about other things later. Constance was there before her and very real, and more in need of her protection.

"I'll tell you as long as you let her go!" Amorette agreed.

Constance was gazing at Amorette curiously, as if seeing her for the first time. Amorette swiftly remembered that Constance knew nothing about Marie; unless of course D'artagnan had told her himself. "Amorette whatever it is they want, don't let them have it!"

A resounding slap echoed around the room as Estevan's hand collided with Constance's cheek. Amorette flew to her feet, rage and desperation overwhelming her as she turned pleading eyes upon Garcia. "I've told you I'll tell you what I know, so rein in your sons!"

Garcia was smiling bemusedly, perhaps wondering if Amorette really would tell him all that she knew or whether she would keep some things back. His eyes didn't leave hers, but he did wave a hand dismissively in Estevan's direction and his son retracted his hands.

"Start talking Cometess."

"I did take a young girl from the Buen Retiro Palace in Madrid when I left. Her name was Marie." Amorette sucked in a painful breath, realising that everything that she stood for was about to crumble into dust. She was about to give up someone she had promised to protect with her life. She did not know where Marie was or if she was even still alive, but to tell everything that she did know would certainly give Garcia a starting point. She glanced at Constance quickly though and forced herself to put things back into perspective. Constance was the one in more immediate danger and surely captain Neville and Marie were intelligent enough to have hidden themselves somewhere they could never be found. "In doing so I had the help of a man named Neville. He was a captain of the Red Guard but he has since resigned his commission."

"You brought this woman to Paris?" Estevan asked.

Amorette nodded solemnly. "I did. I'm under no illusions that you know who the girl really is. What I do not understand is why she is anything of any importance to you. She's practically still a child!"

"If she married one of my sons, she would be of more importance. The girl will be wed to Estevan and when he takes the French crown, we will thus have a claim to the Spanish throne also." Garcia gently scratched his grey beard. "That is why we seek her. Tell us Cometess, where is she?"

Amorette sat again, placing her hands flat on the table top before her, ignoring the horrid sensation of droplets of blood flowing from her nostrils. "I'm afraid I cannot tell you where she is because I do not know. I installed her in apartments in Paris where she would be safe, and Neville and I kept an eye upon her. I did not realise though that Neville was much more attentive than I was to not just her physical needs but her emotional ones. They formed some kind of attatchment; so much so that they decided to elope together. I know not where they went."

"And I am expected to believe that?"

Amorette shrugged. "In truth there is nothing more I can tell you. I cannot make the decision for you as to whether you believe my words or not but if I were you I'd be wondering why on earth have I kept it a secret for so long. The reality is that she is as lost to me as she is to all of you. Marie is gone, and with Neville at her side the chances are that they have gone to ground in some foreign country where they may live out their days in peace. To speak of it to anyone I would be considered mad or dangerous."

"Surely, you've heard from her since, if you two were such close companions? You helped her a great deal Cometess so I'm not comprehending why there would be no correspondence to assure yourself of her safety wherever she may be," barked Estevan.

Amorette nodded her agreement. "I understand your train of thought Monsieur but I have little else to say; apart from advising you to return to the Palace and search through my things. There you will find a letter from Marie that she wrote before she left. I have had no correspondence since. I wish I had, and that I knew that she were safe or even alive but I have had none."

"Does the Queen know of all this?" Garcia seemed to be deep in thought and Amorette wondered if he did in fact believe her.

"No Monsieur she knows nothing," Amorette lied swiftly. "I have had neither opportunity nor inclination to tell her. I'm sure you will be aware that the Queen is with child. Such distress is not healthy for her in such a condition. You see, I know what it is to discover that you have a sister who you have not yet met. My mother died when I was fifteen and I found out some time after that she bore a child some years before I came into the world. I had an older sister who I had not yet met and knew nothing about. I hope you can appreciate the kind of upheaval that can cause in one's life. I had planned to tell the Queen after the child had been born, but I doubt I shall have that chance now."

Amorette did not know exactly why she had lied. It was purely instinctual to protect the Queen as much as she could and to feather what was mostly truth with a little lie. If they believed the Queen ignorant of Marie altogether, she could not be embroiled within any schemes.

"Permit me to know where the Queen is Cometess and you shall have that chance, I swear it." It was the first time Manuel had spoken, but Amorette saw a kind of ire and distrust in the younger Medici boy's eyes that told her he had seen through her lies. Perhaps this was because he was accustomed to telling them himself. "We shall take you to her, and as we drag her from her pomp and state you shall have your chance to tell her. Nay, I will command you to tell her."

Amorette smirked, feeling that she had a little power for the first time in days. "I do not know where the Queen is. If I did, I would not tell you. I've lain my neck on the block for her before. I'm not afraid to die for her. This interrogation is fruitless!"

Garcia had opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment a sharp tap on the door proceeded the entrance of a man that Amorette knew all too well. She had lifted a hand to her face to cradle her broken nose just a few seconds before, and it was as well she had. Her hand hid the gasp that she omitted and her eyes caught Constance's for a quarter of a second before she turned her gaze away, feigning indifference.

Sacha Rouzet had entered the room, dressed in all black and speaking with an accent so fluently Spanish that Amorette suddenly doubted everything about the man that she already knew.

"Señor," he called to Garcia, who ignored him. "Señor? I have news from the Palace that you should hear!"

Garcia waved a hand, beckoning Sacha further into the room and Amorette kept her eyes trained on the table, not trusting what she would do or say if she looked into her friend's eyes. "Speak man!"

"The courtiers…they have taken back control of the Louvre Palace Señor! They have killed our men there and …and they call for your head! They…they want you to go to them!"

Garcia let out a bark of laughter so shrill that Amorette jumped in her chair. "My head? My head is rather preoccupied now. They would not wish to possess it if they knew what crude thoughts it held at this moment! Send word that my sons will meet with their elected representatives within the hour!"

"What? Father-" Estevan began but his father held up a hand to silence him.

"On your way, you will take the woman back to the Châtelet and reunite her with her musketeer friends. The Cometess will remain under my watch until you return!"

Constance was pulled from the room, her worried frown telling Amorette exactly what she thought. To be alone with such a man was not something Amorette desired in the slightest. It was only the wink that Sacha threw her way as he retreated from the room that gave her a little hope. Whether it was a rouse to free herself and Constance, or it was in fact the truth and the Courtiers had won back the Louvre; it mattered not in that moment. It was clearly engineered to buy someone some time.

"I've got nothing more to give you," Amorette said icily after a few moments of empty silence. "All of your men have gone now, and it's just you and me. I will wager that you have no intentions of letting me go alive Monsieur-"

"Cometess you are no fool. You know you cannot be permitted to live. You know too much. That does not mean I will shoot you in the head and have done with it." His sneer was back, reaching out to her across the table to swallow her whole. "There are much more pleasurable ways to bring about your death that are all the more enticing now that we are alone!"

Amorette leapt to her feet again, well aware of Garica's meaning and began to move. She rounded the table and headed towards the door but he beat her to it easily, chuckling at how she limped as she dragged her injured ankle. "I might not have told the Queen, but that does not mean to say I did not tell another soul!" Amorette cried suddenly. "The secret will not die with me. The musketeers know! Their captain who is far from here knows the truth. No matter what you do with me, they know the truth. Lyall Fitzgerald, Henry's brother; he told a musketeer friend of mine quite a lot! The rest, we pieced together ourselves! My friend has told every important man in Paris! They know what you plot and scheme!"

He was closing in upon her around the table, and Amorette could not manage to find the strength to move any quicker. "I believed every word you said earlier you know," he muttered into her ear as he pushed her back against the table and she fell. "But now you spout hot air Cometess! You French women have a knack for that! Let's see what else you have a knack for, shall we?"

Amorette screamed at him as he placed his hands either side of her waist, forcing her to lie down upon the table top. She kicked and punched at every part of him that she could reach, succeeding in lifting herself form the table again but he landed a heavy punch to her stomach that threw her back down. He placed a hand on the side of her face, turning her gaze towards the wall and away from himself. Amorette reached for his hand then, digging in with her nails until he let out a hiss of pain and stepped backwards. Her anger soundly increasing, Amorette launched herself at him and dragged her nails down each side of his face leaving bloody scars. It was in his eyes then that Amorette saw something akin to her father's own rage as he grabbed her upper arms and forced her down again.

She screamed incoherent words as he leaned into her, his face buried in her hair and breathing in her scent. "You cannot have me!" she cried. "Do you think I am weak enough to let a man like you spoil and ruin me! I have the love of the best men that there is, and nothing can take that away from me! You are nothing! You are irrelevant!"

Garcia slapped her hard. Amorette didn't let herself fall back this time, but thrashed against his hold and reached out to scratch his face again when he let go of her arms. Something heavy collided with the side of her head and immediately she fell back onto the table. The celling was spinning all around her, the heavy weighted object that had sat upon the table only seconds before fell to the floor with a heavy clunk. His hands were upon her skirts, dragging them up above her knees and Amorette couldn't move, couldn't cry out as he grabbed the backs of her knees and dragged her to the end of the table so that his hips met hers when he leaned in. She wanted to move, to be sick as his calloused hands touched her thighs but she couldn't move. His hand began to fuss with the neckline of her dress and Amorette tried to force some sort of sound from her throat but it was no use, she was waning. As he leaned in to smell her hair again everything faded to black.

 _ **I really debated with myself whether the ending of this chapter would happen or not and I think it's the hardest choice I've made when it comes to the plot of this story. There is a massive part of me that is still hating it, but it will let us see a certain side of Amorette later on that I love.**_

 _ **I think this is the first chapter where I finally feel like I'm coming close to the end of the story! Although most of it took place in one room it feels to me like it's moved the story on tenfold. Hopefully in the next chapter we will see some resolution, but I won't make promises because we all know I can get carried away with fleshing out my plans!**_

 _ **I had not intended Sacha to enter the story again until the epilogue as he would obviously be trying to deal with Claude's death, but he randomly cropped up here and after I'd written that I realised it was right. Sacha is such a good person and understood how much Claude, Amorette and Constance mean to each other so he would not sit idly by even in his grief. Who sent him though? Is he just trying to save his lover's two closest friends? Or are things finally taking a turn for the better?**_


	74. Chapter 74

_**I've actually finished it! Well nearly; still epilogues to go but the end of this chapter is the original ending I thought I'd have before I imagined the epilogues! This chapter is a long one again, and we finally see everything resolved! I'm so happy I'm (nearly) finished that I'm posting this today! I was going to wait until the weekend when I had the epilogues finished and post it all together, but as the epilogues might also be long I thought it would be fairer to post it today as I've finished. That way I can't keep going back to tweak it! The epilogues aren't finished but I shall be posting them on Saturday or Sunday morning at the very latest so watch out for them! Alternatively, you could just have this ending as it is if you like it and not read the epilogues.**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

Constance had not been sure whether Sacha's words had been true, but it seemed he wasn't the only one to have heard such rumours. People were beginning to open up the window shutters or step out onto the streets for the first time in days to observe the goings on around them; so much so that they became caught up in a crowd at a market square. Constance didn't dare speak to the lawyer though, lest she give him away. They trudged on in silence, Estevan and Manuel only leaving them again as they reached the gates of the Châtelet. Only two armed men accompanied them and as they hurried down a flight of steps into the gloom of the old prison and rounded a corner, Sacha suddenly acted. From nowhere he produced two pistols and killed the two Spaniards before Constance had time to take stock of what was going on.

He turned to hand her a pistol and Constance closely observed his face for the first time that day. She could see the devastation in his eyes close at hand and knew then that he was aware of Claude's death. She was glad that she was not to be the one to tell him, for she was barely holding it together for herself. She could comfort him though and she did, placing a gentle hand over his and squeezing. Sacha gave her a small conflicted smile that did not reach his eyes and Amorette felt her own tears falling. She put her arms around the lawyer briefly and felt his whole body shuddering as he tried to supress his sobs.

"Madam we need to move from here, someone will have heard those shots!"

Constance pulled away and accepted the shot and powder that he hurriedly dispensed into the pistol he had given her and then they made their way ever so slowly through the dank corridors of the prison. She tried to keep her mind from wandering to the inhabitants of the cells they passed, sure that her own husband would have had a hand in arresting a lot of them. Constance's trepidation began to rise as they rounded corner after corner and met no one. There were no Spaniards to be found until they reached the corridor where she knew the musketeers were being held. As they rounded the corner, the bodies of the Spanish men littering the floor and the empty cell told Constance all that she needed to know. The musketeers had found their own way out.

Sacha was shaking his head knowingly. "I should have known," he whispered. "I was at the Hotel de Ville when all of the commotion broke out three days ago. I and some other lawyers were barricaded in the buildings surrounding it; but not out of choice. The stewards there would not let any of us leave no matter how hard we tried. Perhaps if I had been able to…"

Amorette saw his eyes glaze over as his mind wandered. "Sacha don't think on it," she said gently. "There was nothing that anyone could have done. Claude was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Come to think of it, how did you come to know what happened?"

Sacha seemed to recover himself a little and nodded to her. "Sorry, I keep losing track of thought. From the building I was being held in I saw you all being led here and Claude was not among you, so I managed to find a way out of the Hotel de Ville. My first thought was to see if I could help any of you but this place was too heavily guarded. I went to the Palace and it seems that when they left, they only had a skeleton guard watching over the courtiers there. Buckingham had riled them up and taken back most of the Louvre. He told me what he knew, and told me about Claude…He said most of the Spanish had gone out into the streets in search of the King and Queen; not believing that they would leave the city behind so easily."

"The Spanish have more faith in our King than we do right now," Constance mused.

"Their faith is ill founded then," he said solemnly. "Paris is still under the siege of the Spanish. I know the Louvre is in safe hands for the moment but all the Spanish would have to do is round up their men and take it back. Perhaps I should have come here first, but when I saw you and the Cometess being led from here I followed in the hopes that the musketeers would take care of themselves and it appears I was right to think so. I did not think I should be lucky enough to get the chance to free you all. Even so it backfired. Amorette is still in their clutches. I had hoped to free both of you."

Constance's heart almost broke at the sight of his crestfallen face. "Sacha, you did what you could which is a far sight more than would be expected of you given the situation. You got me out! I do not think that Casales man will be willing to let Amorette out of his sight and to try and intervene might have caused your own death. We need to find the musketeers and perhaps they can think of something."

"Where would they go though? They can't have got out in enough time to follow us because we'd know about it."

Constance shrugged. "The Palace perhaps? That would be the best place for them to start I think since they did not know where Amorette and I were taken."

The gates of the Palace loomed large and ominous before Constance and Sacha and the group of Red Guards that they had come across in the streets as they made their way to the Louvre. The gates were manned by Red Guards and musketeers alike, some bearing the injuries and wounds of the fight to regain the Palace. Once through the gates and assured that the Palace certainly was back in the right hands for the time being, Constance felt a little more confident in her steps. She and Sacha hurried along the winding lane that was lined on both sides by dense trees and eventually came to a halt at the bottom of the Jardin des Tuileries. The Palace looked serene in what was now mid-morning sunlight, peaceful and calm, and not what it had been just a day earlier. There was movement at many windows, courtiers and soldiers alike watching the grounds of the Palace carefully for someone who shouldn't be there. Then she saw him, standing at the top of the steps with his two friends and Constance broke into a run, leaving Sacha to wander at a much slower pace.

She took the stairs two at a time and flew into D'artagnan's arms. She let out a sob as he lifted her off her feet, cradling her to him as if he had thought he would never see her again. Placing her back onto her own two feet he took her face in both of his hands. "Are you alright, are you hurt?"

Constance shook her head as the tears fell, creating streaks in the dirt that covered her face. "I'm fine but… "Athos I'm sorry," she cried as she turned to him. "I didn't want to leave her but we had no choice. Sacha came and they sent me back to the Châtelet with him but I do not think Casales has any intention of letting Amorette out of his sight! They would not have let me stay with her, I was pushed out of the door and…"

Athos placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "You were right to do as they bid Constance. We do not know what they would have done if you had gone against them. But where did they take you? Where is Amorette now?"

"The merchant's guild buildings on…" Amorette scratched her forehead. "What street is that on Sacha, I can't think straight?"

"Rue du Grand Heuleu…" Sacha confirmed as he sat down upon the top step and placed his head in his hands. His grief was finally catching up with him and he appeared entirely worn out. D'artagnan crouched beside him and held out a hand for Sacha to shake.

"You brought her back to me, at the risk of your own self and I cannot think of words to thank you or to tell you how sorry I am for your loss. That you put my wife's safety ahead of your own well-founded misery is commendable. I will never forget that, I doubt any of us will."

Sacha nodded, too overcome to speak and wiped at his eyes with his sleeve. Athos was conflicted. He knew what the young lawyer felt in that moment, even though he did not wish to return to those feelings of so many years ago when he had been forced to pass judgement upon his own wife and order her execution. Those were darker days that were no longer a part of who he was; and all because of Amorette. Now though, he might be about to lose her too. He crouched on Sacha's other side and laid a hand on the man's shoulder.

"She's inside, if you'd like to see her."

Sacha raised his head out of his hands to gaze at Athos and the musketeer saw the war going on within Sacha's mind. "What do you think I should do. Will it be worse for me to see her, perhaps I should remember her as she was?"

"It is entirely your choice Monsieur, but consider that it may be closure. You have a child to think of, after all."

Sacha nodded his agreement. "I understand your meaning."

Athos wondered if the lawyer really did understand. He had spent years without closure after he wrongly believed that Milady de Winter was gone from the world and even when he had discovered that she had not died that day, he had further chastised himself. How different things might have been if he had not been so eager to leave that day; if he had stayed to watch the deed done.

"How did you all get away?" Constance asked Porthos.

He gave a hollow chuckle that held none of his usual mischievous humour. "Picked a fight. These two attacked me, made out they blamed me for us all getting caught in the first place. The Spanish rushed in to try and prise us apart and we clobbered them. It was rather simple really."

"Athos, what do you want to do?" D'artagnan asked after a few minutes. "If you're going in search of Amorette you should not go alone."

"Then one of us should stay here to help in securing the Palace," Porthos added as an afterthought. "I've got the feeling that this isn't over yet. It wouldn't take much man power to take back the Palace."

"No one is going anywhere alone!" a familiar voice called suddenly from the bottom of the steps. They all turned in unison to glimpse Aramis taking the steps two at a time until he reached them. In his hand, they could all clearly see the King's seal.

"The King is returned then?" D'artagnan questioned hopefully.

Aramis' forlorn expression told them that the King had indeed not returned to Paris. "The King remains in Versailles, but the Queen returns at the head of a country army in his stead. I rode ahead to find you all and bring you the news…talking of country, where's the Cometess?" he asked abruptly. Porthos gave a minute shake of the head and Aramis' hopeful expression fell. "She made it back to Paris though?"

"She did," Constance confirmed. Taking Aramis' arm she began to lead him away and D'artagnan followed. Together they began to explain everything to him as Sacha slowly began to get to his feet again and fixed Athos with a curious gaze. "Athos if you are going in search of Amorette I would like to accompany you. I would like to help. I cannot just remain idle. I need to do something."

Athos understood the lawyer's need of action in his time of grief, but he did not yet know how he himself was going to retrieve Amorette from Garcia Casales' clutches. The testimony of his friends led him to believe that certainly this time Casales would more than likely kill Amorette before anyone else could lay hands on her.

Porthos clapped him on the shoulder roughly. "We need to think carefully about this Athos. Constance was sent back because she's of no use to Casales now. Amorette gave up the information that she had. When the Queen does return to Paris, the fact that Amorette knows where she was hiding will be a moot point. If Casales believes he has no more use for Amorette after such an occurrence… well you know where I'm going with this. She was left alone with him Athos. Those two Medici brothers were trying to persuade him not to hurt her a few days ago but without them, who knows what he will do."

"Do you think I haven't considered all of this?" Athos snapped as he turned away from his friend, unable to look into Porthos' eyes and see the pity and sympathy there.

"All I'm saying is that you should prepare yourself. We know she's not the cowardly type. She gives as good as she gets and whilst we admire such qualities in a woman the right way, other men will not. If she lives, she'll likely have been mistreated in every way imaginable. Hell, if any of us live through this…"

"Do you think that I have any other thoughts coursing through my mind right now?" Athos replied tersely. "I can't think of anything else; so much so that I don't know how I am to help her!"

"You need men, and quite a few of them. Take Casales out straight away and leave no room for error, that's the only way. Wait for the Queen-"

"We don't have time Porthos!"

"You don't have any other choice! Wait for the Queen to return. Treville will be with her and we can decide what to do for the best then. You go in alone; you'll only make things worse for her. He'll kill you and her."

* * *

Amorette knew that she had been violated as soon as she woke. Not for the first time in the last few days, a searing pain to the side of her head had her sucking in a breath as she tried to open her eyes. Even before she had looked around her, the still calmness of the room told her that she was completely alone. She was still lying atop the table, with her skirts bunched up around her waist. A dull ache between her legs told her exactly what had happened whilst she had been unconscious, but how long had she been unconscious for, and how many men had come and gone from the room.

She forced down the bile that rose into her mouth and shook her head a little, trying to banish those thoughts as she immediately began to think of how she could get out. She groaned as she tried to sit up, feeling the biting pains on her thighs were someone had held her down; moved her unconscious form to do their bidding. She ignored the way her hands shook uncontrollably as she glimpsed the very clear bruises of hand imprints upon her legs and she forced her skirts back down so that she did not have to see them.

Her legs were very unstable and Amorette was surprised that they held her weight as she finally placed her feet on the ground and slid off the table. She immediately moved towards the door and tugged on the handle. It was locked of course, but her hand slid from the door handle rather too easily and Amorette stared down at the now drying coating of blood upon her pale skin. The sleeve of one arm had been torn open and someone had cut into her arm viciously. She briefly wondered what the purpose of that had been, before her mind wandered to other places that they might have cut her. She tried to take stock of all of the pain that she could feel, noting that her ankle did not twinge just as painfully as before, but she could not ascertain anything else. She gave the door handle one more rattle before retreating back into the room towards the window.

She could not see her reflection there, owing to the fact her skin was so pale. It was only the darker anomalies that she could see there, like her eyebrows and eyelashes; and the dried blood that had escaped her nose. She let her eyes wander downwards, noting a few nicks from a knife around her throat and a few along one side of her collarbone. Amorette shuddered suddenly as the fear, shame and desperation washed over her rapidly. She tried so hard to push it all down, because now was not the time for crying. She could cry later, when she had found a way out and all of this was over. It had to be over sometime. She had to believe she could get out; get out and see the ones that she loved again.

Casales was furious, that much Amorette could tell just by his tone of voice. He had recalled all of his men from across the city, and Amorette was in too much of a daze to count how many of them there were as they traipsed through the Paris streets towards the Palace again. The Spanish had lost many men over the course of the last few days and as if that weren't enough, the Medici boys had returned to Casales to inform him that the Queen had returned at the head of an army. The Spanish could not win, not now that the Louvre Palace was back in the hands of the French. All strategy and leverage was lost to him with the death of Henry Fitzgerald and the Knowledge that Marie was nowhere to be found. He had believed her story, that Amorette knew as she trudged on, held on either side by a Spaniard.

That was why he had been so angry with her, and so frustrated. That was why he had raped her. He had lost control entirely, and perhaps that had been his only one foreseeable way to gain control in that moment. It had not had anything to do with lust and desire or gratification. No, it had been to teach her a lesson in compliance and obedience. It had also served to prove to him that he had the ultimate control, but as soon as the ordeal had been over, that control was lost to him again. There was very little that he was in control of any more apart from the spectacle he would give those at the Palace.

He could not hope to win a battle against the Paris court when combined with the Army that the Queen had mustered, but still he did not turn and run as Amorette would have expected him to do. She had not questioned such a choice though, as she could not even bring herself to look at him. The sound of his voice was enough to grate against her already fragile nerves and it took all of her concentration to place on foot in front of the other.

They approached the back gates of the Palace on the Rue de L'Amiral de Coligny where they met no one. The gates led straight through a long archway and out into the central courtyard of the Louvre. There was no one at any of the windows that Amorette could see and she felt a sudden worry that what Sacha had told Casales had been lies. Perhaps no one had taken back the Louvre and it was still in Spanish hands. Perhaps his luck had not run out after all. Had his men even seen the Queen? Even if they had, why would she return to the Palace when that was the most dangerous place for her in all of Paris.

A chill crept up Amorette's spine as they continued to walk until they were free of the main part of the Louvre altogether and were facing the Palais des Tuileries. Wasn't that where Constance had waited for Amorette and the musketeers the day before? Perhaps even if the Palace had not been recovered, they still had access to and use of those rooms.

They moved on, out into the Jardin des Tuileries and still nothing stopped them and no one moved. Surely if there were anyone in the Palace, they'd have fired shots at the large body of men who walked the grounds as if they owned them. They came to a halt on the gravel walkway a few yards from the wall of the Palace and Casales turned to stare up at the imposing and grand building, shading his eyes from the light with a hand upon his forehead.

"I think we have presented them a good enough view, don't you think?" he asked Estevan and Manuel. Amorette had the sickening realisation that something horrible was about to happen to her then. They had brought her here with them as a reason, to make an example out of her.

"Not a movement in sight," Estevan muttered to his adoptive father and Garcia Casales grinned.

"We shall see what happens when we kill one of their own…" Garcia muttered and he turned to Amorette for the first time since she had woken. Amorette shrank backwards as he drew near her but unseen hands propelled her forwards again so that he could look down upon her closely. He smirked as he watched her eyes flicker between him and the windows of the Palace. he laid his hands upon her shoulders and pushed, forcing her down onto her knees and Amorette felt her courage waver entirely as an arm wound itself around her neck. She felt the cold press of steel against her skin and her tears began to flow unchecked. They were going to kill her right there in the gardens for everyone inside the Palace to see; that was if there was anyone left to see it. Her mind ran wild with all sorts, her heart beating furiously as her breath came in sobs. She told herself that at least it was a quick death, one slice across her throat and within seconds she would be unconscious. She would not feel pain or distress, only confusion before the blackness took her and then that would be it.

It was as she glanced back up to watch the movement of Casales in front of her that Amorette caught the slightest of movements at one of the windows on the ground floor. The windows had been smashed in that part of the Palace, so perhaps the wind had simply caught the drapes inside the room. No, Amorette was sure she had seen movement for she thought she caught it a second time out of the corner of her eye.

A set of doors slowly began to creek open and from there people flooded out onto the doorstep to gaze on at the scene before them. Amorette lowered her head, sure that everyone there would look upon her and know exactly how Casales had mistreated her. The thought of having to look into the eyes of one of her friends or Athos and tell them what happened terrified her even though she had decided in her head that they would know by just gazing upon her bedraggled form.

She felt the dagger press harder against her jugular vein and was sure this was the moment Casales was waiting for. She had not been devoutly religious at any point in her lifetime but in that moment, she found herself muttering prayers in haste, her hands sweating profusely as her whole body trembled in fear of what was to come.

Then there was a shrill screaming and the sound came rapidly closer. Amorette's head jerked up in time to witness Constance racing towards them along the gravel path and her heart shattered. She clamped her eyes shut, adamant that she would not watch the death of another friend, but no shot came. Manuel stepped forward and grabbed Constance, dragging her down to kneel beside Amorette who was now almost hysterical.

Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" D'artagnan was calling loudly from somewhere within the crowd of people and Amorette realised that Constance had scuppered their plan. Someone had been tasked with firing, and Constance was now in that line of fire.

"What are you doing?" Amorette cried to Constance as she felt her friend make a grab for her hand. Amorette's hand was slippery with sweat and blood and Constance could not catch a grip of it. Amorette struck out her hand towards her friend, letting the seamstress try again.

"Saving your life! I'm not leaving you like I did earlier Amorette!" Constance whispered. "I've lost Claude and I'm not losing you too!"

Amorette shook her head as she continued to cry openly, both touched by her friend's words and terrified that her friend had chosen to die beside her.

"This is what happens when you cross Spain!" Garcia Casales roared to the crowd in the doorway and to those who now watched from windows. "This is now we treat those who would wish to tear us down! Let this be a lesson to you! Bring your Queen out so that she too may witness the death of her spy!"

Amorette felt the dagger press even harder into her skin and was sure it must have drawn blood by now. The man holding her moved closer, his chin almost resting on top of her head as he readied himself. Then all of a sudden, a shot fired. In the relative silence of the gardens, the sound was loud and overpowering. Amorette felt herself shudder as the musket went off and a split second later, Garcia Casales collapsed into the gravel, a musket ball embedded in his head. The shot had to have come from higher up and Amorette let her eyes ghost over the windows on the upper floors of the Palace as she looked for Aramis who was the best marksman she had ever met. She saw nothing though as pandemonium set in around her. Some of the Spanish men scrambled, their faith dying with Casales but others began to jeer and roar in their anger. Amorette couldn't hope to live much longer with such ill-feeling around her.

The crowd of musketeers, Red Guards and courtiers in the doorway of the Palace was moving though, rushing towards the Spanish and Amorette wondered how on earth they all hoped to survive for they were still outnumbered. At the head of the group was D'artagnan and Porthos, with the Duke of Buckingham brandishing his sword. Manuel and Estevan were the first to charge forward to engage them, anger at the death of their adoptive father clear in their agonised faces. Constance too was moving now that Manuel no longer held her. Brandishing her own knife, the seamstress plunged it into the side of the man who held Amorette without a second thought and dragged Amorette to her feet.

It was clear to Amorette then that it had all been part of the plan. Constance had been a diversion, and so had D'artagnan's pleading with whoever the shooter was. They had wanted Casales to think they would not shoot as Constance was in the firing line, when in reality she had her own weapons about her and was ready to pounce. Amorette did not know how she was managing to stand upright until she realised that Constance held her with one arm, the hand holding the knife held out defensively.

That alone would not keep them alive though. The sound of thundering horses from the other end of the gardens came to Amorette's ears and she glanced over her shoulder to witness a heavily pregnant Queen astride her horse, leading an army alongside the Vicomte de Turenne, Captain Treville and Aramis. Never before had Amorette seen such determination, such defiance in the Queen's eyes. She needed no one any more. There would be no need for spies and schemes for the Queen was no longer what resembled a petulant child at times. She was a hard and incorrigible woman.

A Spaniard flew at them from nowhere, his eyes alight with fear more than anything else and thrust his sword at them. Constance parried the blow with her own dagger but both women knew that would not be enough to stop the man. Just as he swung again, the sound of steel hitting steel addled their brains. The Vicomte de Turenne had thrown himself in front of Amorette and Constance. He fought the man off easily and stood before them protectively, but the Queen's mustered army was making quick work of the Spanish.

A hand closed itself around Amorette's arm and she squealed, pulling frightfully away from the touch that she did not know. The Vicomte turned toward her, readying himself to fight off another Spaniard but confusion marred his features before he turned away again.

"Amorette, you're going to fall and take Madam D'artagnan with you! Allow me?"

Buckingham was at her side, an arm sliding around her waist to hold her up. "George?" Amorette whispered lightly, blinking through her tears to try and see her friend.

Constance relinquished her hold of Amorette just as another voice entered the fray, sending Amorette's head spinning. There were many times in her life when she had not wanted Athos to see her; not wanted him to look upon her but none of them compared to how she felt in that moment. She was repulsed at her own self as Buckingham turned towards Athos, taking her with him. His hair was flowing wildly and his shirt was slightly torn. He carried in one hand a musket only used for the likes of long range shots and Amorette instantly understood. Athos had taken the shot at Casales.

He was staring at her as if she might break into a thousand pieces if he approached, and Amorette didn't know in truth if she wouldn't.

"Amorette?" She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes even as he stepped closer.

She heard a rush of breath leaving his body and he suddenly growled "WHO?" When Amorette didn't answer he lifted her chin with one gentle finger until she had no choice but to gaze back at him. "Amorette answer me. Who?" he spoke in a much gentler tone the second time, but she could sense the anger radiating off him in waves.

Amorette shook her head gently. "I…don't know…" she answered truthfully; for she did not know. Casales had been the one to hit her, and hover over her as she faded from consciousness on that table but she did not know if he had been the one to rape her. She suspected that it was him above all others, but Amorette did not know how long she had been unconscious for, or who else Casales had allowed into the room to have their way with her.

Athos seemed to notice her revulsion in that moment, for his eyes left hers and he looked to Buckingham. "Take her inside. Get her away from all of this. Get her away from the Palace if you can."

Buckingham nodded stiffly. "My apartments in the Palais Royal," he called before he began to walk, half dragging, half carrying Amorette with him.

The apartment in the Palais Royal was bathed in late afternoon sunlight by the time Buckingham had managed to convey them there. The streets were still empty of people or carriages and he had taken a horse from the Palace stables to get them away as quickly as possible. He left Amorette soon after, promising he would be back as quickly as he could. Amorette closed her eyes and finally let all of the pain and shame envelope her as the silent bed chamber offered her the first real refuge in days. She was not aware of time, but when Buckingham returned he was not alone. A female voice accompanied his as he rushed upstairs to return to Amorette.

In seconds, Tilda was patting a damp cloth gently to Amorette's wounds and prying off the now tarnished and ruined dress that had once belonged to the Queen. Amorette cried silently all the while as her maid ever so gently siphoned off the blood. Tilda too was crying but there was a warmness in her eyes that Amorette suddenly never wanted to forget.

"I want to die," Amorette groaned as she felt the tiredness creep upon her again. Tilda was an intelligent young woman, and would know to look at Amorette what had occurred just that morning.

"Hush now, don't talk absolute nonsense!" Tilda scolded even as tears rolled down her own cheeks. "If you die, who will there be to teach me? Just think of all those little children you will have with that musketeer; and of how my sister and I will help you nurse them in that lovely country house of yours. Just think of how happy we will all be, out in the country, with your musketeer at your side and your children scampering around your feet. It's all ahead of you, and here you are wishing it all away."

Amorette felt such a rush of tenderness and love for the maid before her that she raised a tired arm and pulled Tilda into a stiff but warm embrace. "I've never told you how much I value…your friendship Tilda. I shall tell you every day! I did not tell my friend how much she meant to me and now she is gone. She never knew how I loved and appreciated her!"

"I'm sure she did Madam," Tilda said gently as she began to prise apart Amorette's corset. Amorette had never felt a sense of relief like it as when Tilda loosened the last lace and the corset fell apart around her. She felt her breasts drop a little as a gust of air flooded her lungs. Tilda threw a warm fur over Amorette almost instantly. "Now don't you dare fall asleep no matter how much you want to. I'm going to bring up the water for a bath and then you can sleep as much as you like."

Amorette did not know if she had the willpower to remain awake for long enough, but Buckingham must have helped Tilda carry up the hot water from the floor below as in no time the room was filled with the scented water. Amorette managed to stand again with the fur still wrapped tightly around her and Tilda nodded to her gently. "You want to be left alone? I'll be right on the other side of this door if you need me Madam."

Amorette waited until the door was firmly shut behind Tilda before she let the fur fall and gingerly moved towards the mirror. Her ankle was bruised, and her knees were red raw from kneeling on the gravel earlier. There were purple bruises all around her torso and cuts everywhere, but it was her face that appeared the most disturbing. Her hair was matted with her own blood, and there was a large bruise on the side of her forehead from where she had been hit countless times in the last few days. Most of the blood had been cleaned away from her face though, and she could clearly see where her nose had been broken. As she turned her head from side to side though, Amorette wasn't sure if the nose break wasn't actually an improvement. She had never taken much issue with her nose, but it did not seem to look too offensive to her now it was broken.

It was Amorette's eyes that haunted her. She gazed into the refection of them so hard that she suddenly felt a little dizzy. The only time she recalled her eyes looking anything akin to what they did in that moment was years ago, when she and Buckingham had spent many nights attending balls and parties in a row, so much so that Amorette had needed four days in bed to recover from the hangover. She supposed gloomily that it did not matter what she looked like now because no one would want to touch her ever again. She was damaged and tainted.

Unable to look at herself any longer, she turned back towards the bathtub and clambered in, letting out a low hiss as her skin made contact with the warm water. She forced her body into the water, knowing the relief it would bring her even for a short while, and she was asleep within minutes.

When she awoke again, the room was dimly lit by a few candles and she was on her side in bed. Tilda could not have lifted her from the bath herself and so Buckingham must have done so. He was not there though, there was only Tilda fussing with some things in a trunk. When her maid turned, Amorette offered her a small smile. Tilda returned it, but her gaze slid sideways as if she wanted Amorette to turn around in bed. She slowly and carefully began to move, very aware that she ached everywhere.

If any words had been about to escape, for a few seconds they caught in her mouth. "How…how lo…long have you been th…there?" she asked the musketeer who was sat in the armchair by the bed.

"Not long," Athos replied softly. "I'm afraid I cannot stay. I only came to see that you were alright."

"Tilda has been taking great care of me, so I'm fine. You? Are you alright?"

He dodged her question. "I need to get back. Treville will have need of us for quite some time I'd expect."

He leaned in to place a kiss upon Amorette's forehead and then he was gone. Normally such a thing would have instilled a panic in her younger self, but in that moment Amorette felt nothing but contentment. She knew he was not gone forever, for that was a foolish notion. She heartily regretted all of her earlier mutterings to Tilda already and couldn't believe she'd been so downtrodden, but perhaps it had been the tiredness talking.

She did not leave Buckingham's lodgings for over a full week, feeling such a sense of security and safety with her old friend and Tilda that she was slightly afraid of the outside world. The evenings were almost relentless torture as they were spent with Buckingham, going over everything that had happened to her. Buckingham yet again had shown the value of his friendship to her. He had struggled for the first few evenings, but mid-week he began to make progress in returning Amorette to her old self. He kept reminding her that whilst she had been raped, Amorette had been unconscious throughout and had no memory of it whatsoever, and likely never would have. Amorette did not want such memories anyway. He talked at length about how her body might have been taken, but her soul was still intact. No one could have her soul, because it was so very hers alone. Amorette agreed with him upon every aspect and knew that she needed to embrace such beliefs before she would be ready to return to her life again.

Something was holding her back though, and on the sixth day, her worries were finally resolved. Her monthly bleeds came, and Amorette wept tears of happiness for over an hour before Tilda returned to the apartments and fussed around her, thinking something was wrong. Amorette could not voice her sheer and utter relief that she was not with child. She was not carrying the child of Garcia Casales, or any other man that might have touched her. That day marked such a change in her mood.

The next morning, she was dressed for the first time and Tilda arranged her hair and she ventured out into the Paris Streets.

* * *

Paris was still recovering a month after it's attack. The streets were clean and alive again, and people had the good faith and cheer that they had always had, but there was some undercurrent that Amorette could not quite put her finger on, and she didn't want to. She was in a good place and was determined that nothing would disturb that.

Only the departure of one of her oldest friends threatened to. She stood on the dock and watched as Buckingham's last trunks were loaded onto the ship and he jumped back down onto the Quay to say his farewells. Things in England were dire, and Buckingham was nothing if not patriotic. Many English had reached French shores in search of sanctuary and safety as civil war loomed ever closer in England. Buckingham was going home to fight, and Amorette was convinced she would never see him again.

"Do you really have to go?" she pleaded with him. "This all seems so final, as if we will not see each other again at all."

Buckingham smiled grimly and chose not to answer her question. Instead he produced from behind his back a set of pistols in their brace. Amorette's hand rose to cover her mouth in shock for she recognised them. "I must go, for I need to travel to Scotland to return these before I even think of meddling in English matters."

Amorette stared down at the pistols in wonder. "Where…?"

"I found the brace and one pistol in the Jardin des Tuileries," he said. "And I had recovered the other pistol from Henry's body after his death."

Amorette nodded as she recalled using the pistol brace to strap herself to a tree branch over a month ago to try and get some sleep. "And therein lies the true nature of George Villiers," Amorette commented dryly. "You really are a good man, to think of his family and how they would appreciate such a thing returned to them."

"What can I say," he shrugged. "We both had a love for the young Scottish man we knew all those years ago. It is those memories I chose to favour when I think of him from now on."

"George?" Amorette questioned suddenly as a thought came to her. "Did you…did you love Henry? I mean really love him? Not as a friend I mean, but as something more?"

Buckingham gave no reply and simply wrapped an arm around Amorette to draw her into a tight embrace. He kissed her cheek lightly as he finally pulled away and wiped the tears from Amorette's cheek. "I have no worry in leaving you, for I know you will be well looked after. Ever since we came back to Paris a few years ago you have had a tail watching over you, and now is no different."

"What?" Amorette asked as Buckingham nodded over her shoulder and sure enough, there he was; watching her. "George, I haven't spoken to him in over a month. You know that. Or rather he hasn't spoken to me. I've not seen him since that night, after it happened. Clearly he is not dealing with things as well as I am."

"talk to him," called Buckingham as he turned on his heel and approached the side of the ship. "Tell him to get over it and if he can't then he doesn't deserve you. I would say come to England with me and I will get you a good man in one of my friends in an instant, but England is not a safe place right now!"

Amorette watched the ship go, feeling despair and loss as she knew in her heart of hearts that Buckingham would not return to France ever again.

She turned towards the cobalt blue eyes that were assessing her from feet away, and approached him with all he confidence she could muster. He could feel it radiating off her, an exuberance of self-assurance that she never seemed to possess before. She had been painfully thin a month ago, but he could tell she had put on a little weight. Her complexion was brighter, her smile and eyes more alive. It was as if she was a different person. The dress and hat she wore were ostentatious to say the least but for once he appreciated that she had chosen it herself instead of wearing one of Buckingham's designs. In truth Athos had never seen her looking so well.

"Are you going to speak or are you just going to stare at me with your mouth hanging open?" she chuckled lightly as she stopped before him.

"You…you look ah…well," he spluttered.

"Thank-you," she replied cordially. "You look somewhat refreshed yourself."

"That is a surprise, for I do not feel it. There is still a clean-up operation place all around the city," he replied stiffly.

"I know," she said lightly. "I know you've been busy Athos. I know your time has not been your own but D'artagnan has still made time to see Constance. If you wish not to see me, then tell me for I am a grown woman. I can handle it and react much better to truth than lies."

"That is not the case and you know it!"

"Then why?" she asked, suddenly realising that she sounded a little needy.

"You needed time. I know you did. I would only have added to your problems. You needed to recover and recuperate without distractions. I did not want to push you before you were ready and have you resent me for it. That is why I have stayed away, not because my feelings have changed."

"Why did you not talk to me at least, and ask if that was what I wanted?"

Athos shrugged. "I thought that was what every woman needed?"

Amorette snorted. "I'm not every woman Athos. Those men are dead, and you had a hand in killing some of them. I'm not frightened, and I haven't given any of them a single thought! Granted, there was perhaps a week needed for myself, but as soon as my monthly bleeds arrived I was quite myself again. My one worry was over."

She saw him visibly sigh, and realised that he too had been fretting about the same thing. That was when she knew that everything that they had before was still there. He had been worried not for himself, but for her. He hadn't wanted more pain and suffering for her. "You're not with child?"

"No, I'm not."

He nodded then, a small smile forming on his lips. His eyes met hers and Amorette stepped forward a little as she got lost in the cobalt blue sea before her. She wanted to kiss him so badly in that moment, but he turned his head at the last minute. "He's gone for good then," Athos said with a jerk of his head towards where Buckingham's ship had been moored only a little while ago.

"Yes, he has and I shall miss him greatly," mused Amorette. "I've lost another one of my friends, you see that's why I need you so badly. I cannot lose anyone else."

"You do not need me Amorette, you're strong-"

"Don't tell me what I do and don't need Athos," Amorette cried as she pointed a finger at him. "There is something you need to understand. I need you more than I ever have. What do I have if I do not have you?" He did not know how to answer her at all, and so he remained silent. "Do you want me to tell you what I have? Right now, I have that man on top of me, that's what I have!"

"I thought you could not remember it…"

"I cannot because I was unconscious! Athos that does not stop my mind from imagining things! Every time I close my eyes I see it still!" Amorette shuddered at the thought. "You know very well how vivid my dreams are! For heaven's sake, I foresaw my own nearly death and it was only for the Spanish that Shauna fell from that bridge and not me! That's how my dreams work. Are you really going to leave me with all that for company? I need love and happiness and all that we had between us before because that is the only thing that drives out hate and destruction. I need you to show me what it is really like; what love and tenderness is really like! I need you to show me again! I need you!"

Her words certainly seemed to have swayed him for he stepped closer to her, his breathing erratic as his eyes flitted from her own blue orbs to her parted lips and back.

"You can kiss me you know," she whispered against his skin. "I won't shatter into a thousand pieces."

If she had expected him to be tender and gentle, she was entirely wrong. He kissed her so fiercely that Amorette was in no doubt that the month apart had been just as hard for him as it had for her. He pulled her against him so tightly that she could feel his arousal through her skirts and his heart thumping furiously in his chest. He began to move, dragging her as they still kissed into an alleyway and threw her back against a wall. He gave one questioning glance as if asking permission, lowering his head to kiss her neck when she gave him a smile of approval. His hands trailed over her stomach wrapped in corset and silks, travelled up her sides until he reached her breasts.

She grabbed one of his hands then and began to pull him along the alleyway, a heady sense of anticipation brewing between them both. "Yours or mine?"

"My rooms are closer," he replied darkly.

"Yours then."

 _ **So, what did you think? I must confess that I wasn't sure about all of the action in this chapter and whether it was a fitting end to our story. It was the one I always had though, even though I now have two epilogues in my head! I know we only really saw Buckingham, Amorette and Athos here and that there are loose ends where the other characters are concerned, but we will find out how they fared in the aftermath in the epilogues. I do want to stick more closely to the book ending rather than the TV series but we shall see how that goes!**_

 _ **Just a note on the topic of rape; I've never had something like that happen to me or anyone I know and don't know how people react or about feelings or emotions afterwards. I don't presume to know how someone recovers from something like that and deals with it all because I'm sure it's so very hard but I imagine worthwhile! I do know my character though and Amorette is very strong. I don't think she bounces back as such, because she is still affected by what's happened but she is choosing not to let it change her life. She knows who she is and what and who she loves and that's what keeps her going. I guess the sentiment I wanted to convey is that no matter what happens to us in life, it's actually okay to have the belief in your own strength and abilities and to rush back into life again if that's what's needed! I think this is important after all that's been happening in the U.K. over the last few months in London and Manchester! Love makes the world go around and so does life. You only get one life to live and so we should make the most of it, whatever it may entail. Take Amorette for example, she's loved Athos for so long, and she's not letting him be ripped from her by what someone did to her. It was not a choice she made or something she wanted and she's determined not to let it affect her!**_

 _ **I know that's easier said than done when it comes to real life, but if we want and will it to be okay, chances are it soon will be!**_

 _ **I will post the epilogues on Saturday or Sunday, and although I'm happy the story is finished, there is a part of me that doesn't want to post them 'cause then it's done for good!**_


	75. Epilogue part 1

_**Finally getting to write the epilogue! This is the first of two epilogues and they didn't always exist. There was a part of me that was going to just leave the story where the last chapter ended, but that leaves too many loose ends I think. This first epilogue was thought up just before Christmas and was going to be the complete ending. For me, it's the most plausible one but I've imagined both in a way that I think you can read them and chose one or the other as the ending you want and disregard the other, or like me you can have them both one after the other in order!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

 _If I should die, think only this of me:_

 _That there's some corner of a foreign field_

 _That is for ever England. There shall be_

 _In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;_

 _A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,_

 _Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam;_

 _A body of England's, breathing English air,_

 _Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home._

 _And think, this heart, all evil shed away,_

 _A pulse in the eternal mind, no less_

 _Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;_

 _Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;_

 _And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,_

 _In hearts at peace, under an English heaven._

 ** _Robert Brooke - The soldier_**

* * *

The amount of English nobility landing on French soil had increased tenfold in the last few months, owing to their civil war at home. Many families travelled to France to seek solace after the death of fathers in battle, and sometimes even eldest sons too. Paris court though was as it had ever been, unapologetically garish and untamed. In the year or two since the attack on Paris, Amorette had involuntarily taken on more responsibility in terms of the Queen's own household. She had never wanted to become one of the ladies in waiting who trotted along behind the Queen to do her bidding but she felt herself reeled in as one by one, the old faces began to leave.

Constance was still trusted implicitly by the Queen, so much so that the seamstress had been sent off to manage the Dauphine's household. Amorette saw her friend occasionally but more often than not the two women conversed in letters, many of them in code. If Amorette had thought she could escape the life of a Queen's spy after the death of the little French Princess, she had been very wrong. Although she tried to remain upon the fringes of such schemes and offered only advice rather than her services, she could occasionally be sucked in to things when she least expected it. Those first few months after the Paris attacks had been agonising for the Queen and Amorette knew it. Anne of Austria had experienced a very difficult birth of her second child and for a time she was so ill that some thought she might not recover.

Recover she did though. Remarkably, she had even much more of a tenacious nature than Amorette would have expected. Women were expected to feel their sensitivities softening even more after the birth of a daughter but in the Queen, it had enhanced her protective streak. She had decided that her daughter would have the happiest and most care-free life that her mother could create for her. Her own experiences as a woman had made the Queen a better mother. The King, although beginning to ail a little of late, was very much involved in his son's life. Perhaps he was schooling the little boy a little too hard for his age, clearly trying to prepare him for the day when he would inherit France.

He saw his daughter not so much. Amorette had watched how the Queen shielded her infant daughter carefully and protectively and knew that would carry on even into the young girl's adulthood. There was no talk of betrothals or marriage contracts because the Queen had disallowed them in her presence. Amorette thought that the little girl's real father would secretly have been glad of all that, if he knew. Amorette did wonder occasionally just what Aramis knew from his hiding place in a monastery in Verdun. The reality was, he probably knew even more than she did. He had not been able to bear watching his two children growing up without knowing who their real father was or watching the woman that he loved make her life with another man. It had been deemed safest by them all that the Queen's relations with Aramis stopped altogether, but Amorette knew the occasional letter would be sent here and there. She let Aramis' letters pass under her nose and made no comment of them, preferring to pretend that she knew nothing of them. They all knew how high the stakes were now in terms of keeping that which should remain secret from prying eyes. If Aramis had not wanted to leave, he hid it well. His three friends had out ruled him even before he had the chance to speak. When he did though, he was in agreement with them all.

It had helped that he was not the only one to leave. Porthos had married Alice Clerbeaux with all the haste and flurry that was to be expected when two people who loved each other were reunited after a long separation. With such a marriage to a woman of nobility Porthos had been forced to give up his commission in the musketeers, but he now had no want or worry for money as his new wife had enough for both of them. Athos and D'artagnan had both agreed between themselves that they believed the Queen would bestow a title upon the once musketeer once a few years of marriage had passed. It seemed only right as his wife outranked him massively. Porthos was not one to be bothered by such things though.

Porthos and Alice left Paris for a country estate, but their city friends were always welcome, and those who had taken religious orders. Thus, although they were parted, they all still saw much of each other. Whilst D'artagnan and Athos had remained in Paris, the latter had taken much more of a back-seat in regard to his military responsibilities. He wished for his younger musketeer friend to prove himself and that; D'artagnan certainly had done. When Treville passed away, Amorette had felt the raw agony coursing through the man she loved. The death of his mentor and friend left Athos a little lost and bereft for a few months as D'artagnan reluctantly took control of the garrison and the musketeers housed within it. It was a testament to the young man's character and when Amorette had managed to console and nurse Athos back to his usual stare of mind, it had seemed rather foolish to the older musketeer to tear away from his younger friend that which was clearly the making of the man.

D'artagnan as a musketeer captain had made his wife as proud as it was possible to be and together the two young people were the talk of Paris. Amorette rather enjoyed such warm and innocent gossip as her friends lived a life of perfect harmony and example. Amorette preferred to remain squarely out of the limelight, with her musketeer lover in her bed and her pile of coded letters in a corner of the room. It felt odd to her to be happy with such a simple and what she thought was a rather uncomplicated life. She was not married to the man she loved, and they did not keep a house together or talk of inane things like what she had bought at the market that day or who at court was with child. That was not exciting for them. They much preferred the intrigue and scheming that they had always had a part in. That was what they thrived on. Amorette knew there would be time later on for what was good and proper.

Therefore, she had not expected to face it so soon. The news came one blustery late October morning as the Queen and her ladies took a brisk walk around the Palace gardens wrapped in their fur stoles. Amorette was watching from the side-lines, not wishing to be a part of the pernicious gossip taking place. At length, they reached a walled area inhabited by flowers and the women set about picking some to place in their coifed hair. Amorette watched not the ladies before her, but the road that lead away from the Palace and into the trees; beyond which a gate led out into the city. A rider had appeared at the end of the road, traveling at great speed towards the Palace, changing course slightly when he saw the women congregating in the little walled shrubbery. Amorette stepped forward slightly as she shaded her eyes from the light to get a better look at the rider.

"Stafford?" she muttered before she broke into a run, racing to meet the rider who was fast approaching.

"What do you suppose that can be?" one of the ladies asked the Queen. "News from England perhaps?"

The Queen felt a spark of nerves race up her spine and she turned back towards the gravel pathway where several musketeers were on duty. She found the cobalt blue eyes there as he too noticed Amorette's urgency.

Stafford doffed his hat to Amorette as he pulled on his horse's reigns with one hand. The horse reared upon its hind legs for a second and Amorette took a few steps backward for her own safety. Then her father's steward was bending down to pass her a sealed letter which she took in pale hands.

"Stafford what is this?" Amorette questioned even as the Englishman readied himself to leave again.

"I'm sorry for your loss Cometess," he muttered quietly before he pressed his knees into the horse's side and the horse turned and cantered away.

"Stafford!" Amorette cried as she took off after him, knowing very well she would not catch him. "Stafford what is this?"

He was already too far gone. Amorette stared down at the letter in her hands, sealed with black wax. Red or blue wax was the usual custom, and black was traditionally for bad news only. The seal was familiar, belonging to the Earl of Arundel and Amorette felt her breath catch in her throat. There was only one reason such a man would be writing to her and sealing the letter with black wax. Her hands trembled as she turned the letter over again in her hands and boke the seal hastily, paying no heed to the sophisticated scrawl of her name and title that addressed the letter. She almost tore it in her rush to unfold the letter and read it, her hand flying to cover her opened mouth in shock.

Her knees felt as if they would not hold her as her eyes flew over the necessary greetings and sympathies down to the words which confirmed it all. Her father was dead, and the Duke of Buckingham too. Amorette was not aware that the grass was still damp from the rainfall of the night before until she felt it come up to greet her. Her knees slammed into the soggy carpet beneath her, her skirts soaked through within seconds. The letter fell from her numb hands as everything around her spun out of focus.

Just as she felt herself falling sideways, something pushed her back into a sitting position. "Help me get her up, will you?" she heard Athos call from behind her as an arm snaked its way around her waist. On her other side she felt someone take her arm and together they pulled her back onto her feet. Amorette took a few stumbling steps forward as D'artagnan leaned down to pick up the letter that she had dropped onto the grass.

Mutterings and whispers followed them as the two musketeers marched her between them back inside the Palace and sat her down upon a bench in the large hallway that linked both sides of the Louvre Palace with one another. The spinning sensation had lifted, but Amorette still felt incredibly sick.

"What did the letter say?" Athos asked gently.

"Read it," Amorette replied solemnly and watched D'artagnan unfold the letter he still held as he shared an apprehensive glance with Athos. Athos read the letter over D'artagnan's shoulder, his expression growing grimmer with each second that passed.

When his eyes finally left the letter, and returned to look into her own eyes, she knew he was at a complete loss for what to say to her. How could a letter so short convey both what should have felt like relief and closure at the death of her father and a sadness at the loss of her friend the Duke of Buckingham?

Amorette shook her head lightly, not even knowing her own mind in that moment. Her hands still trembled as they rested in her lap and Athos crouched in front of her to cover her hands with his.

"I'm sorry, about Buckingham," he managed to choke out stiffly. There was little meaning behind his statement but Amorette was grateful that he had tried to sympathise in her moment of grief.

"Is everything quite alright? Are you ill Cometess?" They all glanced up at the new voice to find the Queen approaching them from the doorway out into the gardens.

Amorette managed to nod. "Ev…everything is fine, I'll be along in a moment."

The Queen did not appear to have bought Amorette's explanation at all, a worried frown gracing her features.

"Amorette no you aren't!" Athos cried. "You almost fainted! I'm taking you upstairs. D'artagnan can explain your absence."

D'artagnan readily agreed as Athos shot him a pointed look and helped Amorette to her feet. He urged her along beside him, deeper into the Palace with one arm round her waist and his other hand tightly gripping the letter. Amorette let him lead her as she could not find it within her to argue with him after such a shock. Her feet seemed to work of their own accord, because she wanted nothing more than to collapse in a heap upon the floor. She resolved to do just that once Athos had left her.

They reached the stairs and Amorette faltered a little, tripping over her own foot before she had even placed it on the bottom step. Athos didn't wait for permission and lifted her off her feet as if she weighed nothing and began to climb the stairs.

"I can walk for myself you know!" she grumbled as she wound her arms around his neck.

"Remarkable," he replied sarcastically. "In this instance Madam, you will forgive me for believing that such exertions at present might result in your own injury."

"You can be so overbearing sometimes," Amorette whispered into his neck without any real malice at all and he kept walking, smiling gently at her rebuke for a few seconds before he seemed to recall the news she had received only a few minutes earlier and his expression dropped.

Only when she was finally alone did Amorette let herself cry, both for the Duke of Buckingham and her father. In many ways, she had hated the man who had ruled her childhood with an iron fist but as she had grown older his authority had meant a lot less to her. A general disregard for anything he said had swiftly began to grow within Amorette, particularly after her mother's death and it was something that had stayed with her. Now though, she felt a kind of void within her. She had hated her father more than anyone else she had ever met, and now there was nowhere left for her to channel all of that emotion.

She was standing on the balcony when Athos finally returned to her some hours later. He approached from behind as she leaned against one of the pillars that held up the overhanging stone above her. Amorette didn't blame him for being at a loss for words.

"Do you know, I have wished my father dead for most of my life," she announced. "Now that he is, I cannot find it within me to continue to hate him as I have always done."

"Your feelings for him are not what killed him Amorette. Your father died in battle on the field at Edgehill," Athos said softly as he walked to the balustrade and turned to lean against it so that he was facing her. "After everything that passed between you, I would worry if you did not harbour hate and resentment towards him!"

"He's still my father!" she cried as unchecked tears rolled down her cheeks. "No matter what happened, he still had a hand in bringing me into this world. I feel like I still owe-"

Athos closed the space between them in two strides to place a hand either side of her face. "Amorette you owe the man nothing. Just because he gave you life and connections does not mean that you somewhow have to forget all that he did to you. He was not loving and protective. He cared only for your mother's good name and fortune. You owe him absolutely nothing and he owed you a great deal. I understand that you're experiencing such a mixture of emotions but do not let your judgement be clouded. You need to take some time to think things through, which is why I need you to unpack those things from that trunk on your bed."

Amorette shook her head as she gently pushed him away. "Athos, I have to go to England. There are matters that must be dealt with."

"Can you not ask one of your cousins to do it?"

"I want to do it myself," she replied. "I think I need to. There will be things of my mother's that I will never see if I do not deal with this myself."

"England is too dangerous right now Amorette," Athos sighed exasperatedly. "There's a war going on for God's sake!"

"Then come with me? I should like to have you with me!" She turned away and walked back into her tooms, hearing his footsteps as he followed her and closed the door behind him. "Of course, if D'artagnan cannot spare you-"

"Of course he will spare me," Athos confirmed.

They set out for Calais the very next morning, with a folded list of reputable English lawyers in Sacha's handwriting hidden in Amorette's pocket. D'artagnan had readily agreed to let Athos take the leave required to travel with Amorette to England and back and Amorette had the sneaking suspicion that Athos had been hoping that his friend would refuse. Amorette would have been foolish to travel alone and so she would have likely stayed in France, but the guilt of it all would have gnawed away at her insides until she did something rash.

It was as they rode through Sussex that Amorette caught sight of what had once been a great castle that sat atop a hill, overlooking the countryside. Now though, it was just a shell. Amorette let her horse stop to graze a she gazed up at the sorry sight of the ruined castle with shocked eyes.

"Is that it, Thornbrook hall?"

Amorette shook her head even as words escaped her. "That is…No. That is Arundel Castle. I played there as a child. We are not far from Thornbrook hall now."

"Then we have some time before the sun sets," said Athos. "We can go up there if you'd like. The whole place looks deserted after all."

They were not due to meet the Duke of Arundel until the next day at his ancestral home, but now that Amorette had glimpsed the once great castle in all of its ruin, she could not pass it without paying her respects.

Clearly, most of the building had burnt to the ground. The roof had fallen in and only the stone walls remained to tell the tale of times long passed. Amorette had always considered the Castle in her memories as something very romantic to look upon, but now she knew that it surely told the tale of countless magnificent buildings and homes across the country being ravaged by war. Where would all of the history of the great nation be if the parliamentarians tore down every great house in England?

They walked the ruins in silence, Athos meandering behind so as to let Amorette observe everything alone. When they had first arrived in England, Amorette had written to the Duke asking to meet, and ever since his reply came she had wondered at his choosing to meet in such a place as his home. She had heard that there had been some damage, but she had expected nothing of the sort that lay before her now.

"Countess!" came the sudden shout and Amorette turned sharply, hand flying to the brace of pistols at her waist swiftly before she realised there was no danger. How like a staunch Englishman to forgo her French title for the English equivalent? Athos had moved quickly to her side, his hand upon his own pistol but Amorette placed a calming hand upon his arm.

"Thomas?"

The young man came closer, ambling across the debris of the building as if he had done it ten times before already that day. "We did not expect you until tomorrow," Thomas Howard, the Duke's son replied.

"We saw the castle from below." Amorette motioned to the vast green countryside that lay below them. "I couldn't believe my eyes at first. I am so very sorry Thomas about your home. But forgive me, I was written to by the Duke. It was him I was expecting to meet here tomorrow. Is he here?"

Thomas smiled grimly. "It was the Duke who wrote you Countess but…It was always I who was to meet you, for I am now the Duke of Arundel."

"Oh Thomas," Amorette cried as she took a step towards him. "Your father? I'm so sorry."

He nodded stiffly. "He fell at the Battle of Edgehill along with your father, Buckingham and many others. Come, let us away from here and down into town. There is a respectable inn there where you and your friend could spend the night if you wish it. I'm sure you are exhausted after your journey. We can drink to those no longer with us."

In the Inn off Fitzalan Road they finally took welcome seats whilst Thomas Howard arranged a room for them, only pausing to raise an eyebrow at the knowledge that they would require one room and not two. When he returned he had ordered food and wine for them all. Amorette produced Sacha's list to show the Duke and made a copy of it.

"You must let my man deal with this for you. He will find you a lawyer tonight in readiness for tomorrow. He can begin dealing with any legal matters right away."

Amorette was grateful that the Duke made such an offer as she had not thought upon how she would arrange a lawyer at such short notice in the dire times. She had thought her stay in England might be quite long, but if work started tomorrow, they might only need to stay a few weeks. They ate and drank quietly, both Athos and Amorette feeling the tiredness and stress of their journey beginning to overwhelm them now that they were sat before a warm fire. At length Athos stood to go and find out if their rooms were ready.

"Can you trust him?" Thomas Howard asked abruptly.

"With my life," Amorette replied.

"Forgive me if I am prying," the Duke pressed. "He has the form of a military man does he not?"

"He's a musketeer," Amorette supplied. "But he is also nobility. He gave up his title many years ago now. That's how we originally met. You were not prying by the way. I believe he asked me the same kind of questions about you as we descended from the castle. We knew each other and played together as children Thomas. I think that forgoes any formalities between us both don't you."

"I cannot fathom why anyone would readily give up their title," mused Thomas as he turned to watch Athos.

"There was a woman…" Amorette shrugged and let the explanation hang in the air, realising that she had not spoken of her sister in a very long time.

The cold dampness in the air was sinking into her very bones, Amorette thought as they led their horses up the steep hill to look out over the valley that Thornbrook hall lay in. Athos too was not amused by the weather as he had never been in England before and was well used to warmer climes. It was their fifth day in Sussex, and Amorette hoped they would not have to spend many more there. They had met with the lawyer at Thornbrook two days ago where Amorette's father's will had been read. No one else was in attendance because her cousins thought it too perilous to travel. There was a part of Amorette that was pleased she would not have to meet with the English side of her family. She spoke through their lawyers, ensuring that all of the inheritance found the correct benefactors well.

She had yet to really delve into the house's secrets though. They had approached from the other side two days ago and had not had a chance to take in the scenery of the land around them so Athos suggested they take the longer route up onto the hill for their last trip to the house. Amorette hoped to take stock of what was in the house and take what she wanted for herself before she let the lawyer deal with the sale.

The house had clearly been empty for months before her father's death as he had been canvasing for men to support the royalist cause. Most of the furniture was covered and all of the household staff had found work elsewhere for the upcoming winter. It was strangely enjoyable to Amorette to have the house to herself with only Athos for company. The memories she had of the Elizabethan house were not fond or happy ones but she could appreciate the history of it, and of how her father had further built his family's name. That name was dead now though, it had died with him. Lord Barclay had only sisters who had all married young and without a son, there was no one to carry on the name. Amorette found that somewhat fitting. The name only brought heartbreak.

There was not much within the house that Amorette wanted to keep for herself, but she did wish to search for more of her mother's jewellery in the hopes that her father had not disposed of it all. Athos left her to it, remaining in the room her father had always called the armoury. There were all kinds of weapons kept there, mounted on the wall in a show of strength of arms. The will had stipulated that the house itself belonged to Amorette, but that she could dispose of it as she saw fit. The contents of the house were to be equally divided amongst herself and her cousins though. Amorette told Athos to take whatever her liked from the armoury as she knew she would not take much else herself. Perhaps no other family would ever come that way to claim what was rightfully theirs considering her cousins' reluctance to attend the will reading.

Athos found Amorette hours later, curled up on a chaise in the one room that she had always loved at Thornbrook; the library. A box of jewellery sat at her feet, and she had amassed a small pile of books that she had decided to keep also.

"You found it then?" Athos asked her as he crossed the room to look out at the black void of night beyond the windows.

Amorette brushed her fingers lightly across the top of the pile of jewellery that twinkled in the firelight. "I had thought he might have thrown some of it away or melted it down, but it appears he was not as cold hearted as I thought. I don't think any of it was really moved."

She took another swig of the brandy decanter that she had found on her father's desk in the corner and sighed heavily. "How much have you had to drink?"

"Not nearly enough," Amorette clipped.

Athos shook his head at her. "You know that won't help matters. It's not going to take away the pain."

Amorette snorted and uncurled her legs from beneath her to stretch them out in a rather unladylike fashion. "It stops me wanting to burn the house down though, and that's something! I mean, why on earth did he leave me this house? To taunt me? Surely he had to know I would just sell it on!"

Athos' eyes were trained on her bare feet as they brushed the rug below her. "If that was his intention, it's working Amorette."

Amorette raised the brandy decanter into the air then in a mock toast and muttered, "Well fuck him then!"

Athos rolled his eyes and turned away. She knew he was not really that displeased with her though. They occasionally got drunk together at home in Paris, laughing at inane things and acting like teenagers. He was just annoyed that she was letting her father get to her even after his death. "I'm sure the sentiment isn't lost on him," he mused as he leaned against the desk. "Not a lot of people liked him."

Amorette was ignoring his train of thought, a new one of her own building so much so that a wicked grin grew upon her face and she rather clumsily stood up. She swayed a little where she stood, but with a new intention firmly taking hold she moved into the middle of the room, swinging the brandy decanter from one hand. "Do you know what I want to do? I want to say fuck him!"

"You have," Athos pointed out. "Twice now."

"I can't think of a better way to do so," she grinned, "Than to make love right here before the fire, in his prized library."

Athos was shaking his head. "You're drunk Amorette. Anyway, isn't it a little cold for all of that?"

"If I were not drunk Athos I would not have the guts to do it and doesn't the cold make everything that much more exciting?"

"Are you sure about this?"

Amorette was laughing then as she crossed the room towards Athos and tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. "Let's give him exactly what he did not want. Me; taking the most pleasure I can out of life with a man I love. That is everything he did not want. He is dead and I am here still; owner of the very house he wanted to leave to a son he never had."

She held out the brandy and Athos took it, the last of the warm liquid coursing down his throat as he took a long swig. She looked positively wicked standing before him in shadow with the fire blazing behind her. How could he deny her it, now that they were really here and she looked like that; now that her father was really gone from her life forever?

The bed of furs that they had slipped naked into after their love making on the library floor seemed so far away when they stepped into the little Parish church that bordered Lord Barclay's estate. Amorette felt a shiver race up her spine as they stood at the bottom of the nave, staring up at the altar. Athos tarried a little at the back of the church on purpose as Amorette spotted her father's effigy atop his tomb near the chancel. She approached with extreme caution, suddenly irrationally fearful of the face of her father carved in stone. He was buried alone, as he always should have been in Amorette's opinion because he would have disturbed the eternal rest of whoever it was that lay with him. She had no words for him, as he had never had any kind ones for her. She could not think of anything that he would have been happy to hear from her anyway. She had not wished to look upon the effigy for long and already was feeling the sensation of her feet forcing her back down the aisle towards the door, but as she turned she managed to place a kiss on the tips of her fingertips and lay it upon the stone forehead before her.

The miserly February rain pelted down in freezing cold sheets that chilled Amorette to her very bones. She was not in England but France even though the weather would have made her think otherwise. Garrison life moved along all around her as she dismounted her horse and raced towards the steps in anticipation of shelter. In his office, Captain D'artagnan poured her a glass of wine as she sat and told him what she had learned in Aix. She had passed him the name he needed as soon as she had arrived, but he had not rushed away as he perhaps out to have done. Instead they passed a merry half hour as close friends might before they both quitted his office for the streets. They met Athos in a tavern and moved on towards the Rue Pierre Sarazin where they hoped to find their man.

Since Christmas Amorette had been gone, and she had to admit she had sorely missed her friends even as she watched them back the Italian man up against the wall of the garrison cell.

"Why don't you just tell us what we need to know and we can all go home?" D'artagnan offered in mock pleasantness.

"Or we could tear you limb from limb," Athos countered. "Either way it's your choice." The man remained silent, squirming in their hold and resolutely clamping his jaw shut. Athos shrugged then. "Very well, limb from limb it is."

"I think that's my que to leave," Amorette announced to her friends. "Come and find me when you have the information." She turned to give the Italian one last glare though. "Be careful," she whispered as she tapped Athos' shoulder lightly. "This one bites!"

D'artagnan groaned. "Ugh, too much information!"

"Is it done?"

Amorette presented the Queen with the folded scrap of paper that Athos had scrawled over. "It's all here. I trust you can take things from here your majesty."

The Queen smiled warmly at Amorette. "I'm grateful to you all for this, but especially to you Amorette. I know that you struggled to resign yourself to these kinds of schemes for a while, but I have no better spy in my employ than you!"

"I cannot promise that will always be the case," Amorette sighed. "But I promise I will always be here for you, no matter how many better spies you find."

She re-joined the musketeers in the hallway and linked arms with both men as they began to walk back towards the doors. "It's odd isn't it, that it's us three here at the end of all things?"

"What makes you think it's the end?" D'artagnan asked her. "I think it's just the beginning."

"COMETESS!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake what now?" Amorette roared as the Queen's cry ricocheted off the walls.

"Make that two of us then," Athos chuckled. "Come and find us when you've consoled her, or promised aid in whatever scheme she's concocted now!"

 _ **I know this ending differs a lot to the TV series, but I decided to be selfish and choose the ending I wanted to have. I think there will always be that part of Amorette that wants to meddle in things and I definitely saw her living out her days in Paris as the Queen's spy with Athos by her side. This is my selfish epilogue for myself, but the next epilogue is for all of you, as I think there is perhaps another outcome that might please you all. I didn't think I'd like the idea of the next one, but I've decided it follows on well enough from these scenes and so it's now my ending too! As this one took most of the day to write I will be posting the next epilogue tomorrow! I don't think it will be nearly as long as this one though!**_


	76. Epilogue part 2

_**I forgot to add a poem to the last chapter, so I've added it now but there are no other changes.**_

 _ **The last update ever for this story…I was glad I was getting to finish it while writing, but now I'm slightly saddened it's all over! So, this epilogue can be read as standalone after chapter 74 or it can carry on from the first epilogue, entirely up to you! I think this chapter is more along the lines of what you would all like to see though. Now that it's all in place I love it and it's definitely how I see the story ending, which is unusual considering one important factor that Amorette's never been sure about! Enjoy!**_

 _ **I only own Amorette.**_

 _When my arms wrap you round I press_

 _My heart upon the loveliness_

 _That has long faded from the world;_

 _The jewelled crowns that kings have hurled_

 _In shadowy pools, when armies fled;_

 _The love-tales wrought with silken thread_

 _By dreaming ladies upon cloth_

 _That has made fat the murderous moth;_

 _The roses that of old time were_

 _Woven by ladies in their hair,_

 _The dew-cold lilies ladies bore_

 _Through many a sacred corridor_

 _Where such grey clouds of incense rose_

 _That only God's eyes did not close:_

 _For that pale breast and lingering hand_

 _Come from a more dream-heavy land,_

 _A more dream-heavy hour than this;_

 _And when you sigh from kiss to kiss_

 _I hear white Beauty sighing, too,_

 _For hours when all must fade like dew,_

 _But flame on flame, and deep on deep,_

 _Throne over throne where in half sleep,_

 _Their swords upon their iron knees,_

 _Brood her high lonely mysteries._

 _W.B. Yeats – He Remembers Forgotten Beauty_

The house was made for parties and enjoyment. The halls should have been filled with the joyous laughter and companionship that had so alluded Amorette's mother in her lifetime. It was finally fulfilling its purpose. Christmas in the country had always been a kind of dream of Amorette's, with everyone together again around the same table but she never had thought she would see the day when it truly would happen.

Tilda and her husband Léo had refused to let Amorette do anything apart from sit in a chair and tear strips of painted paper apart to make decorations with and had taken most of the decoration work upon themselves. There were a few furniture movements of course that needed the strength of two men and for that Athos was only too happy to help when he finally arrived from Paris. They had only been apart for four days, but Amorette was beginning to feel those absences more keenly than ever. She did not think there would be any more lengthy excursions for her without Athos, as she couldn't bear them anymore.

When he came, he was not alone. It was odd to see them both out on the lawn in front of the house shooting because Amorette was almost sure Aramis had not handled a gun of any kind in a good few years now. He had not lost any of his skill though. About a week later, everyone else began to arrive. There was Porthos and Alice, D'artagnan and Constance, Claude's niece Georgitte with her husband and son, and Sacha and his daughter. Amorette had always thought her home rather big, but she had to admit that when they were all arrived and settled she did have the strangest notion of being extremely crowded.

The next few days were a flurry of activity and general mayhem as everyone ate when they wanted and congregated in small groups of conversation in odd places like on the stairs or around a window. Amorette had been adamant though that she was not up for cooking for such a large group every night and would only prepare such a feast on Christmas day. So it was that she began to cook early on the afternoon of Christmas day, ignoring Athos' pleas for her to take a break every so often. She ignored him, breathing in the smell of the yule log that he had brought into the house the night before and sprinkled a little red wine over. The smell had filled the house within a few hours and that would continue, as was tradition until New Year's Day.

"Will you sit for a while," he chastised her well into the evening as she was about to serve their feast.

"Athos I'm fine! Stop Fussing!" she cried as she batted him away. He attempted to grab a spoon that currently rested in one of the pots to taste the food and she slapped his hand away as she had done countless times that day with them all. They were all ravenous as really, their feast should really have been eaten either the evening before or in the early hours of the morning after they returned from Church, but no one had gone to church that year owing to Amorette's condition.

Only when the food was served did she finally take a seat around the dining room table with them all. Everyone ate and added to the din of chatter, but Amorette took a few moments to take in what was before her. The fire crackling merrily in the grate and the curtains drawn closed against the cold outside, with them all together again. Nearly all of them, at least. Her gaze strayed to Aramis then, who was deep in conversation with Sacha, more than likely discussing some form of literature. He was not as despondent as she had expected him to be, but perhaps he saw the brighter side of things. The Queen and her children were in Paris for Christmas, but she had come to Provins a few days earlier before everyone else had arrived. Of course, only Athos, Amorette and Aramis were privy to such knowledge and deigned to keep it a secret.

Despite not approving of the whole affair in terms of safety and propriety, Amorette had not been able to deny her two friends that one small happiness. So for Aramis, although the Queen and his children were not with them that very day, he had seen them and spent time with them which was the real importance. They had been able to give him that at least.

Amorette had never needed so much wine in all her time living in Provins, but she had seen the good sense of making sure the cellar was well endowed beforehand. They all still sat around drinking long after the dinner things had been cleared away. The children slept in their parents laps and they all whispered in hushed but jovial tones until someone had sense enough to suggest that the children were put to bed. The chatter and peals of laughter grew in volume a little then as Amorette returned from putting little Ines to bed with some more wine.

"Why on earth did you not let me fetch that?" Athos growled at her as he jumped up to take the flagon of wine from her. "You should not be carrying anything! You should not have been on your feet so long today either."

Amorette rolled her eyes at him as she sat down again and brushed the palm of her hand over her very pregnant stomach. "For heaven's sake Athos, I'm with child not completely immobile!"

She shared a humorous smirk with Constance who sat at the other end of the table as Athos continued to grumble. His grumblings got extensively worse Amorette had found over the course of time, when he had consumed copious amounts of red wine. She found it ironic really, that he was complaining about her tiring herself when he would be the one to make it worse. He had drunk so much that he would snore all night and keep her awake. Amorette did not begrudge him the enjoyment of it all, having all of his friends in the same room again for a simple celebration. It was something they rarely had the chance for now that they all led their own separate lives. Of course, she could always sleep in another room in the house, but Amorette knew that would not happen. She would forgo sleep entirely even if it meant suffering the snoring just to be in his company. She never felt as secure as when he was by her side.

As if in agreement with her thoughts, the little child within her stomach kicked out harshly, drawing a gasp from Amorette. She reached for Athos' hand under the table and placed it on her swelled stomach where she could feel the tiny little kicks. She placed her hand over his and held it there, feeling the cool band of his wedding ring against the palm of her hand. She had taken her own ring off and left it in her jewellery box while she cooked. After her father's death, Amorette had been ready to give up everything that she had to marry her musketeer, but the King and Queen had granted them a special dispensation. Thus, the little kicker within her womb would still inherit all of Amorette's mother's legacy.

"It appears our little boy is rather the fighter," Athos mused as he grinned down at her.

"Our little boy; or little girl may be whatever they wish to be," replied Amorette. "Whether that be a fighter or something infinitely different."

Athos pressed a kiss to her lips as his warm smile grew, his eyes a little dazed from all of the red wine. They did not realise that the rest of the table had fallen silent as everyone watched them.

With such a congregation of friends, there must also come the departures. That began two days later, leaving Sacha and Ines as the last to leave. Amorette was sitting on the floor in the parlour with Ines, playing with the wooden toys that she had been gifted for Christmas. Sacha was sat at Amorette's side, but he had stopped playing a little while ago and now looked forlorn and lost. Amorette knew he still felt Claude's absence keenly and couldn't fathom how to help her friend any more than she already had done. She knew that in reality there was only so much she could do for him because there was a lot he would need to do to help himself before he saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

He sighed heavily as Amorette and Ines chuckled merrily and Ines scampered off to show Athos and Aramis the new creation she had made in slotting the wooden blocks together.

"Will you tell me what bothers you?" Amorette asked her friend. "You've been in a melancholy mood all morning."

"I think you already know," Sacha replied stiffly. "I just feel…what will I do? Amorette you're the only real mother figure that my daughter has known and-"

"What?" Started Amorette. "You think that once my own child is born I'll forget about Ines? Sacha she's my Goddaughter! That will not happen! I will always be there for her and for you."

"I would not blame you for it," Sacha grumbled. "You deserve happiness more than anyone I know and of course once you have your own child, your time will be preoccupied. Hoping for anything else is futile."

He rose before Amorette could stop him and quitted the room. "Sacha!" she called to his retreating back. "Sacha, I hope you don't want me to follow you because I can't actually get up myself!" When he did not return Amorette was forced to turn so that she was on her hands and knees on the floor and push herself up against one of the couches. "God I'm like a bloody beached whale…" she muttered to herself.

She found Sacha in the kitchen, placing some of Ines' new playthings into a trunk. Amorette found that now she had followed him, she didn't know what to say to him. She leaned against the table and watched him, wondering how on earth he would cope when he left for Paris again. But then he had coped very well over the last few years. It was with great reluctance that Amorette prepared to say goodbye to Sacha and Ines later that day at the front of the house. She managed to crouch down to give her Goddaughter a hug, hearing Athos' grown of displeasure as he knew as well as she did that she would need help getting out of such a position again. He pulled her to her feet again so that she could kiss Sacha lightly on the cheek and then father and daughter clambered into their carriage and were gone back to Paris.

"Will he be alright?" Aramis asked Amorette.

"He will have to be," Amorette replied. "For he has his daughter to think of."

She was glad that Aramis had decided to stay with them, for she had for the last day or two had the inkling that her child was not so far away from being born. It would do good for Athos to have someone within the house with him. He spent the rest of the day grumbling at her as she moved about too much for his liking. In reality, Amorette was so sick and tired of being with child that she hoped her activity would bring along the birth. She cooked a meal for them that night, with Aramis consenting to help her tidy things up afterwards. Where Athos admonished her, Aramis humoured her and this mused Amorette greatly. Athos had stormed off in an ill temper when Aramis had consented to help Amorette and had not told her off for rushing around on her feet.

In reality, Amorette's waters had broken some time earlier and she had told only Tilda. The birth had still been hours away and remarkably the pains had been few and far between until dinner. Just as Tilda came in through the back door with a bucket of fresh water, Amorette suddenly doubled over as a painful yelp escaped her lips.

"I think it's time," announced Tilda.

"ATHOS!" Aramis bellowed.

In truth, Amorette remembered very little of her first birth. It had not been as plain sailing as she had thought it would be and had in fact been rather traumatic. She seemed to have blocked most of it from her memory. She recalled Athos rushing down to the kitchen and sweeping her up into his arms to take her upstairs, and she recalled waking the next morning with her son in her arms, but the occurrences in-between were mostly lost to her. Athos told her most of what had happened, for he had been in the room with her. The tale her husband had told her, she recounted to her second son as they mounted their horses in haste of leaving London.

"Your brother has a lot to answer for in terms of causing unwanted distress Alexander," she said as her son helped her onto her horse. "Just because he is older than you does not mean he will ever have the right to lord it over you. I have always been aware of the rivalry between both of you and I know it will always be there in some form, but you both need to begin to think of the rest of us. Your father and sister and I have had to listen to it for so long now that we don't know who it was that started it. You are twenty now. With such an age comes certain obligations and responsibilities. Your brother is now at an age when men begin to think of marriage and I know he has his heart set on Ines. I do not know how Sacha feels about all of that though. Even if he were to agree, Ines is a few years older than Anatole."

"That's probably what he finds so irresistible," mused Alexander as he mounted his horse and they set off. "He's always had that odd attraction for older women."

Amorette rolled her eyes at her son's attempt to sully his brother's name even further. "So what if it is his taste? You have yours do you not? Both of you had better start getting along, for your father and I will not always be around to console you when you argue. You will also have to take care of your sister! All of this nonsense will pale into insignificance when those days come."

"Don't talk so mother! You and father are not nearly old enough to be discussing such matters. I've told you both countless times you do not look your ages. Perhaps it's something to do with how happy you are together that prevents your growing old. I'd say there's a lot of life still in you both yet."

Amorette gave no reply, but she did smile warmly at her son's words.

"Father there's a letter from England!" Adélaïde cried as she reached the kitchen and presented Athos with a worn and screwed up letter. The seal told him it was not from his wife.

"Well it's not from your mother," he said in confusion as he traced a finger over the seal before he opened the letter and began to read. "My God," he muttered under his breath and drew the attention of his oldest son who sat at the other side of the table.

Athos stood to walk towards the window, needing better light to read the letter. "Father what is it?" Anatole called as he stood himself and approached the window.

Athos turned, seeming to weigh up the situation with worried eyes before deciding that honesty prevailed when it came to his children. "There was a fire in London a week ago. By fire I mean on a rather large scale. It's burnt down half the city!"

"What?" Adélaïde cried as she made a grab for the letter and Athos lifted it out of her reach as he tried to continue reading. "What about mother? Is this why we have not heard from her?"

"Your brother is perfectly capable of taking care of your mother, and she of him," Athos pointedly addressed his daughter. "Do not fret so."

"Do not fret?" Anatole cried. "Father what else are we to do when we have not heard from her? Our mother may be capable but Alexander is only twenty years old. Heavens when I was twenty I could not have hoped to have such sense about me let alone him!"

Athos threw an arm around his daughter's shoulders and pulled her close as she chewed her bottom lip in worry. "Do not talk so, you're frightening your sister. Your mother is perfectly capable of reaching her cousins outside London and of taking care of Alexander. He is also far more capable than you give him credit for, Anatole. Your mother can be forgetful and remiss in terms of letter writing and she has been for a while now. Just because we have not heard from them, that does not mean that there is any cause for worry. Your mother is the cleverest woman I know. They will be fine."

"Well I for one am glad my husband has so much faith in me," Amorette said jovially as she leaned against the door frame.

Her little family were so engrossed in their conversation that they had not heard hers and Alexander's arrival. Athos rushed forward and dragged them both into a bone crushing hug. When he pulled away he crumpled the letter still held in his hand and threw it onto the fire. "What of this fire in London then. I hope that as you are here, that means you left the city before it started?"

Alexander hugged his sister to him as he moved into the room. "It burned for four days apparently, but we left on the Monday, before it had time to really take hold of the city. The rest we heard as we travelled so I'd say you likely know more than us father."

Athos nodded, relief evident on his face. "You Alexander," said Anatole briskly. "You were supposed to make sure that mother did not forget to write as she always does. You were to ensure that we had news!"

"I wrote myself!" Alexander roared. "Perhaps we have beaten our letter back. You must understand Anatole that the post in London and southern England was in chaos due to the fire! The messengers to courier such letters were few and far between and those that there were most likely had other things on their minds. It likely got lost before we left England. I had thought to write once we landed on French soil but that was only this morning. We'd certainly have beaten that letter back!"

"I did not think of that," Anatole said softly. He did truly feel a little bad for arguing with his brother when they should all just be pleased to be back together all in one piece.

"You never do think," Alexander quipped lightly as he grinned at his brother. There was no real malice there and Anatole grinned back.

"What? No sarcastic rebuke for our argument?" Anatole asked his sister who made no reply. She was watching her mother and father, who were in each other's arms and kissing so passionately that they were oblivious to all around them.

"Ugh…" the three young people groaned in unison.

"Anyone fancy a nice country walk as far from this house as possible?" Alexander asked hurriedly.

When his brother and sister readily agreed they hastened out of the back door and into the garden. Amorette and Athos pulled away to laugh heartily. "I am sorry if I worried you," Amorette whispered to him softly.

"You didn't," he replied good naturedly. "I think Adélaïde might have done when that letter arrived, but I did not really consider you in any danger. You're too smart for that." He glanced down then at her clothing and began to pick at the laces of her dress bodice. "We should really get you out of these dirty traveling clothes."

"Yes, we should," Amorette agreed huskily as Athos brought his lips to the side of her neck and began to kiss her jawline. "But in the kitchen?"

"Why the hell not? If anything, it will make them all stay out for longer and with any luck we'll get some damned peace and quiet for once!" Amorette let out a chuckle as Athos gently turned her so that she could lean against the end of the table. "Although what can we expect really, with an outspoken and headstrong mother like you for an example? I don't think they ever will know when to shut up!"

Amorette pulled away a little with mock offence in her features as Athos tried to kiss her. "Why, would you change me; husband dear if you had the chance?"

Athos grinned at her and with two hands at her waist he pulled her closer to him. "Not a chance in hell. I'm married to the best woman there is."

"Just so…"

 _When you are old and grey and full of sleep,_

 _And nodding by the fire, take down this book,_

 _And slowly read, and dream of the soft look_

 _Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;_

 _How many loved your moments of glad grace,_

 _And loved your beauty with love false or true,_

 _But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,_

 _And loved the sorrows of your changing face;_

 _And bending down beside the glowing bars,_

 _Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled_

 _And paced upon the mountains overhead_

 _And hid his face amid a crowd of stars._

 _W. B. Yeats – When You Are Old_

 _ **So that's it! Over a year and a half this story has taken me and I cannot deny I am glad to be free of it now even though I love it dearly! It's 456,313 words long and that I cannot get over. I never envisioned it being that long or of me actually finishing it! This is the first piece of writing that I've finished ever! So, I guess this is more along the lines of what I think you all wanted for Amorette and I cannot deny that I love the last scene!**_

 _ **I want to thank all of you who followed, favourited and faithfully reviewed! It means a great deal to know that even one person out there enjoyed my writing! I do have two other fanfictions which I can now begin to plan. One is musketeer based and one is not, so look out for them if you can!**_

 _ **As Amorette and Athos might say, Au Revoir!**_


End file.
